I Am Your Slave
by EvaXephon
Summary: An alternate version of the events of SC3 and SC4 with twists to the story and characters. Final Chapter: 60. This story is now complete! I hope you enjoyed it!
1. Stray Dog

_Tira was a bird trapped in a cage. Not once had she ever had the freedom to choose her own future. Her earliest childhood memories were of taking orders from others. The act of taking orders had become a regular routine in her life. She knew of nothing else - no other way to live. When the Evil Seed rained down, Tira suddenly found herself set free from the life she knew. But her newfound freedom meant nothing. 'Freedom' was confusing even as just a concept to her - living it was little different than torture. Tira began a life of aimless wandering. She was no longer a trapped bird; she was a stray dog._

_It was around this time that the intensity of her emotions grew so much that she could no longer control them. The slightest occurrence would cause her heart to sink, and for her to feel like rejecting everything. Then, her mood would improve suddenly, and everything she did would feel tremendously enjoyable. She had two sides - a side of light and a side of darkness. She grew more and more confused, but she now lacked the will to even concern herself with it. She simply accepted the way she was - or at least tried her best to do so._

_However, the day came when all of that changed. One day, she learned of Siegfried. A man who was forced to be the servant of a sword - a man who was evil as the Azure Knight, but good as himself. A man who had been traumatized by his experience of not having his own free will, a man with a side of light and a side of darkness. Tira's heart leapt - she had found someone else like herself._

_"Finally, someone to whom I can give myself entirely. Someone I can call master." Tira couldn't help but lick her lips at the thought._

_Following a trail of rumors, Tira finally pinpointed where Siegfried would travel next, and was able to get ahead of him. Once ahead of him, she started a rumor of her own, a rumor she knew he wouldn't be able to ignore, in order to orchestrate where he would go next. There, she would meet him..._

Ostrheinsburg was famous for its canals. It was built on an archipelago of more than 100 islands in a shallow lagoon. The canals served the function of roads, and almost every form of transport was on water rather than on foot. Rafts plied regular routes along the canals and between the castle's islands, drifting on water currents.

Siegfried was standing atop one such raft, floating down the canals of Ostrheinsburg. Siegfried had come to this ruined, abandoned castle, in which lay the terrible memories of his past, because he had heard rumors of someone who was suffering under the influence of evil there. He had - not once, but twice - known that same suffering. Out of a desire to atone for his sins, Siegfried had decided that the evil energy must be stamped out.

Siegfried floated down the canal on the raft, looking left and right, searching for the victim of evil. As his raft began to enter a tunnel, Siegfried suddenly heard a sound behind him - as if something had fallen down and landed on the raft. He whirled around, and saw someone standing on the opposite end of the raft - they must have jumped down from the bridge above right before the raft entered the tunnel.

She was a female - Siegfried could tell quite easily because of her mostly exposed breasts. He studied her. She looked to be no older than about 17 years. He had met a number of opponents with very bizarre appearances, but that did not stop this one's unnaturally colored features from appearing strange to him. Whether because it was their natural color, or because she had somehow colored them, her hair was blue, her eyes were purple, and her lips were green. She had a beauty mark beneath her right eye, a purple streak of face paint ran across her right cheek, and similar streaks ran in several other places on her body. She wore what looked like green feathers around her neck, her thighs, and her wrists. She was clothed in a green tunic that was torn and stitched in many places - the tears exposing a great deal of her breasts. She was a very attractive young woman - but, at the moment, Siegfried was concentrating more on the giant circular blade that she was wielding. It was an unconventional weapon, the likes of which he had never seen before, but despite its strange appearance - like that of the girl - Siegfried did not doubt for a second that it was deadly.

"Who are you?" Siegfried demanded of her.

The girl seemed to be entranced for a moment before responding - she was staring at Siegfried in a blissful way, as if his existence alone pleased her. "Oh, Master! I've been waiting for this day! The day when I can finally introduce myself to you!"

Siegfried's eyebrows arched to form a confused expression. "...Master?"

The girl preformed a deep bow, swinging her weapon to the right as she did. "My name is Tira! And, as of this moment..." She kneeled down. "...I open the most sacred depths of my heart and accept your will into myself, Master!"

Siegfried simply stared at her, dumbfounded. Keeping his guard up, knowing that the girl's claims could be a trap to deceive him, Siegfried made an effort to comprehend the girl's actions. "...I do not understand. What exactly do you mean?"

The girl seemed slightly disappointed, but not discouraged. "What do I mean? Master, isn't it obvious? I'm giving myself to you!"

"...Giving...yourself?"

"Yes! I am giving myself to you! Totally and completely! All of me!" The girl gestured at her body. This gesture could most definitely have been interpreted in a sexual way, but Siegfried did not want to risk misinterpreting her in a way that would offend her.

"...Do you mean to say that you are...submitting yourself into slavery?"

"Yes, Master!"

"But - why?"

"Because! You and I are the same!"

"The same?" Siegfried was becoming frustrated. Every time this girl spoke, he had to ask her to clarify what she meant.

"Yes, Master! I was a prisoner. And you were a prisoner, too! I've got two sides. And you've got two sides, too!"

_...Nightmare. She's speaking of Nightmare...I see that rumors travel fast._

"I'm..." The girl paused. An expression formed on her face that implied deep concentration. It seemed as if she was trying to figure out an overly simple way to explain something extremely complex. "...Let me put it this way. I'm...a servant by nature. I need a Master, or else...I just don't know what to do with myself!"

Siegfried nodded slowly, understanding what she was saying. _This girl must have been in a position of servitude for a very long time. She doesn't know how to live her own life; the only way she can be function is if someone else is making her decisions for her. She believes we have strong similarities, and...thinks that this makes me fit to be her new 'master'..._

"...What's wrong, Master? Do you...do you reject me?" Tira's purple eyes showed fear.

"...No! I don't reject you. It's just that...this is very...sudden. I'm not sure what to think."

"Well, I don't know how you could be hesitant. Who would object to having a faithful and loyal slave that will do whatever you want? There must be SOME way that I can be useful to you! Right, Master? Right?"

As Tira spoke, she gestured with her arms, and took a few steps toward Siegfried. Her movements made her breasts bounce and sway, and once she came closer, Siegfried could see the outline of her nipples against the shredded cloth that barely covered her breasts. Although he felt guilty for it, no matter how hard Siegfried tried, he found himself utterly unable to tear his gaze away from Tira's perfectly shaped body.

_...Be careful, Siegfried. The last time you allowed yourself to be seduced, you were enslaved as the puppet of Soul Edge...Wait. Soul Edge!_

Siegfried was a man perpetually tormented by the guilt he felt for the sins he had committed as Nightmare. His days were spent searching for ways to ensure that the reign of Soul Edge would never appear again, in order to truly atone for his sins once and for all. It was at this time when Siegfried realized that a slave could serve as more than a mere servant - Tira would be invaluable if she were to prove capable of aiding him in his quest. This revelation would have come to him much earlier if Tira's beauty had not distracted him.

"Do you still need convincing? I promise I won't inconvenience you, Master. I'll get all my own food. You can treat me however you want. I promise I'll be a good slave!"

"No - I need no further convincing. Tira...I believe that you could prove to be a powerful ally."

Tira's eyes grew wide, she gasped happily, and then she began to leap up and down. "YAY! Master accepts me!"

Siegfried, normally a cordial and stoic man, could not prevent the corners of his mouth from curling to form a small smile. Not just because her bouncing and jiggling breasts seemed just about to pop out of her clothing, but because he found the girl's actions and behavior to be...cute.

"So, Master! What is my first command?"

Siegfried's thoughts finally returned to business. "Well, I came here to investigate rumors I heard of someone who was suffering under the influence of evil..."

"...Oh." Tira said. She looked down, put her hands behind her body, and gently nudged the raft with her boot's toe. "...I made up that rumor."

"...You...You made it up?"

"...Yes...Oh, Master! Please forgive me! I only did it because I wanted to meet you so badly!"

Siegfried sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. "...It's alright. No harm was done."

Tira gasped with glee. "Thank you, Master! Forgiving a slave for her poor performance is the greatest honor a Master can give his slave!"

_...Well, it certainly does not take much to make _this_ girl happy._ "It's nothing."

Now, Siegfried's thoughts turned to where he should go next. He looked towards the sun to see the time of day. The sun was setting - it would be nighttime soon. It wasn't safe to travel when it was dark. Siegfried looked towards the next dock that the raft would pass. On the dock was a sign that read, "Inn."

"We will stay at this inn, and set out tomorrow."

"If that is what my Master wants!"


	2. Have Your Way With Me

Siegfried and Tira entered the inn. It was empty, as was every building in Ostrheinsburg since the massacre a few years back. Siegfried himself might have personally murdered the inhabitants of this Inn as Nightmare - he tried not to think of it.

"Tira, would you prefer to sleep in separate rooms?"

An expression of puzzlement came over Tira's face. She looked to the side, and scratched the back of her head, obviously greatly deliberating over the subject.

"...Master...I...um...can't decide."

"...Oh! That's right. My apologies."

"Don't apologize, Master! You should never have to apologize to your slave."

Tira smiled, and Siegfried faintly smiled back - her cheerful demeanor was contagious. He knew that the proper and gentlemanly thing to do would be to sleep in separate rooms...However, Tira's body and clothing made it difficult to think 'proper' thoughts.

_She's beautiful...I wish I could..._He paused. _I don't have to wish. I could...I could have her if I wanted, couldn't I?_ Siegfried's heart began to beat slightly faster at the thoughts running through his mind. Every male felt a lust for attractive women, whether strongly, weakly, or even subconsciously. Brief wishes and fantasies sprung up in his mind every now and then, but a desire to be proper kept him from ever making anything of these thoughts. Now, however, he didn't have to worry about any of that. He could be as proper or improper as he wanted to.

"...Hm? Hehe! Master! You're blushing!"

"I'm - what?"

"Your face is turning red! It's so cute!"

Siegfried realized that there was warmth in his cheeks. _Am I really blushing?_

Tira giggled, and once again Siegfried could not help but smile a little.

_...I've decided._

"Tira..."

"Yes, Master?"

"...Would you...stay in the same room as I?"

Tira's brow wrinkled from having to make a decision. "...If you order me to."

Siegfried eyes roamed up and down Tira's body against his will, but he did not resist for long.

"...Yes. ...Stay in the same room as I."

Tira smiled. "Okay, Master!"

The inn's rooms were on the second floor. The two of them ascended the stairs, and entered the first room they found. It was a small room with a single bed. Siegfried was about to ask Tira if this room would be all right, when he remembered her condition.

Siegfried entered the room, and Tira followed. They set their weapons against a wall. Even though the two of them were the only souls for miles, Siegfried shut the door behind them. Afterwards, he looked at Tira nervously, his heart beating almost as fast as it did during the heat of a battle.

"...Master? Are you feeling well?"

"...Tira...there is...something I want..."

"Is it something I can do for you? Please say yes!"

"...Yes, it is, Tira."

"Oh, please let me appease your desires, Master!"

Siegfried took a deep breath. "...Tira...I want to...touch you. ...Would you...let me do that?"

"...Of course, Master. I'd let you do anything to me. You don't have to ask."

Siegfried looked down at Tira's breasts. He hastily removed his gloves from his hands, and they fell to the floor with heavy thumps. After a moment's hesitation, he placed his bare hands on Tira's chest, and spent a few moments simply enjoying the sensation before he began to fondle and massage her breasts in his hands. The more he touched her, the more his lust grew. After searching for the string to pull in order to untie the laces that held her top together, he found it, and pulled it with nervously trembling fingers. As he'd imagined at quite a few times by now, the center of the top split down the middle, exposing Tira's breasts fully. He continued to fondle her breasts, now able to move them more freely. After his arousal had grown even more, he closed his eyes and lowered his head until his face was pressing into her breasts. He moved his head around, rubbing his face against her breasts, and planted soft kisses across them, letting his tongue slip out of his mouth slightly to drag it across her chest. When his lips found the nipple of her right breast, he suckled on it.

By now, his pants were causing him extreme discomfort, and his hands moved down to loosen the laces on the front. As he did so, he suddenly realized that he had a strong desire to take his pants off completely, but to do that, he'd need to take off the armor on his legs - and if he did that, he might as well take off the rest of his armor and clothing, as well. Now that he was thinking farther ahead, he decided to find out what Tira thought of all of this. He turned his head up, and was greeted by a mischievous glint in Tira's purple eyes and pleasant smile on her green lips. "Ooh, Master...!" She purred. Siegfried was glad to see that she had no objections - that she even seemed pleased by the recent developments.

"Tira - wait for me on the bed."

Tira licked her lips. "Mm, yes, Master..."

Siegfried hurriedly unclasped all of his armor, letting it fall to the floor, and then finished removing the rest of his clothing. Despite being naked in front of someone he'd known for only a short while, he felt surprisingly comfortable, due to the circumstances. He turned to Tira, whose eyes were open wide and aimed directly at his groin.

"...Wow. When I saw that big sword, I thought that it might be compensation, but..." Her eyes met Siegfried's, and he could see a sort of hunger lingering in them.

He approached her. There were so many things he wanted to do to her - but where to start? First of all, he wanted her clothing to be off. He enjoyed the idea of undressing her - but another idea suddenly came to mind. He crawled onto the bed, and lay on his back.

"Tira...I want you to straddle me, and...dance atop me...while removing your clothing."

Tira moved a finger to her lip, and an expression of interest formed on her face. "Ooh...I think I like your orders, Master."

Tira slowly crawled towards Siegfried, her breasts hanging down and swaying with the seductive movements of her body, which Siegfried openly enjoyed. As her chest passed by his groin, she let her breasts hang down and brush up against his hard dick, making Siegfried's head tip back as he let out a moan. Tira sat atop his torso and gyrated her body, her breasts bouncing and swaying and jiggling. She removed her feathered collar, slipped off her ragged top, and worked off her gloves, until the top half of her body was completely bare. Siegfried reached out and grabbed her breasts, moving them around and around. Tira stood up, unbuckled her belt, and slid off her pants, all the while dancing above Siegfried and sticking out and jiggling the parts of her body that she knew he'd like. When she was naked, she laid herself down on top of him. "Any more orders for me...Master?"

Siegfried moved his hands up and down Tira's body, from her breasts to her ass cheeks. He had a mesmerizing beautiful woman lying nude atop him willing to do absolutely anything for him - the possibilities open to him at this point seemed endless. "Tira...roll over onto your back."

"Yes, Master." Tira rolled off of him, and onto her back. Siegfried, in turn, rolled on top of her. He pressed his mouth against her sexy green lips, and the two of them were soon enraptured in a fiery kiss. Siegfried moved his lips to her cheeks, to her neck, and to her shoulders, kissing her as he went, loving the taste of her skin. He began to move down her body, moving his kisses down to her collarbone, and then to her breasts again. He had his way with her breasts once more, and then continued kissing down her body, to her abdomen, and finally to her pussy. He spent a while experimenting with this new territory, licking it, and tasting it - all, of course, to the great pleasure of Tira - before he moved on, kissing her inner thighs and calves, until there was simply no where left to kiss.

The experience left Tira panting and blushing heavily. "...Master...I liked that...a lot."

Siegfried smiled. "...May I ask you to...return the favor?"

Tira's eyes lit up. "Oh, I'd be more than happy to, Master!"

Siegfried lay on his back, and Tira climbed atop him. She followed the same path that his lips had taken - from his lips to his shoulder to his chest - and when she continued going lower, tension began to mount between them. When Tira finished with his abdomen, she looked at his dick, and caressed it gently, thinking to herself, wondering how best to approach this situation. She began by lightly kissing the tip, which made Siegfried shut his eyes tight, tip his head back, grip the bed sheets tightly, and groan slightly with desire for more. Tira slipped her tongue past her green lips and swirled it around and around the head of his dick. "Mm, Master, you taste good..." Tira took the head of his dick into her mouth, and sucked on it lightly. Aroused by her own actions, she sucked on it harder and harder, licking it as she did so, driving Siegfried wild. She took more and more of him into her mouth, until she had taken the full length of his dick in. She moved her lips up and down his shaft, sucking and licking it all the while, gently moaning as she did so, sending vibrations against it that pleasured Siegfried even more. When she was done, she drew her tongue down the shaft to his balls. She treated them as he had treated her breasts - licking them, kissing them, and sucking on them, all the while running her hand up and down Siegfried's shaft. When she felt like moving on, she licked his inner thighs.

"Tira..."

"Hm? Want me to go back, Master?"

"Actually, there was...something else..."

"Name it, Master."

"...Put my dick in between your breasts."

Tira's eyes grew wide from the suggestion, and her following expression showed interest in the idea. Lying on her belly, she laid her breasts atop Siegfried's dick and moved them up and down the shaft. Siegfried panted and moaned, his gaze locked on the sight. Tira smiled, and increased the speed at which she moved her breasts and the pressure with which she applied them to his dick. He moaned louder, and, loving to incite such responses from him, she bent her head down and took the tip of his dick into her mouth once more. She continued sucking on his dick and rubbing her breasts against it while Siegfried writhed in pleasure on the bed. Eventually, Siegfried's moans became even louder, and then Tira felt a warm liquid shoot into her mouth. She continued pleasuring him until the liquid stopped coming, and then Siegfried stopped moving and lay still on the bed, looking very exhausted. Tira stopped pleasuring him and crawled forward on his body until she was looking him in the eye.

"You know...I take back what I said. You don't taste _good_. You taste _great_."

Siegfried smiled, put his arms around her, and pulled her close in an embrace. The two of them lied there for a while, merely holding one another, and occasionally giving each other a sly grope or kiss. Before long, Tira felt hardness up against her thigh. She looked with surprised, yet pleased eyes at Siegfried. "Oh, my, Master...do you want more?" The hungry look in Siegfried's eyes was her answer. "Just tell me what to do."

"...On your back."

"Yes, Master..."

Tira rolled onto her back once more, and Siegfried climbed atop her. He spent a few moments admiring the beauty of her body, and then began to explore it with his hands as well as his eyes. He adjusted his position so that his groin was near her face, and rubbed his dick across her lips. She slid her tongue out of her mouth to lick it, and Siegfried rubbed his dick across her lips a bit more, receiving kisses from Tira as he did. He moved his body downward until his dick was once more lying in between her breasts. He pushed them together with his hands, and spent a few minutes pumping his dick in and out of the lovely crevice between them, or simply rubbing his dick against them. Then, Siegfried lay down on his back.

"...Tira."

"Yes, Master?"

"On your hands and knees, above me."

"Yes, Master."

Tira rolled over and got onto her hands and knees, above Siegfried, her breasts hanging down just inches above his face. He admired the view for a while, and then placed his hands on them, and spent some time simply playing with them. When he'd had his fill, he slid out from underneath her, and admired her current pose. Then, he got onto his own knees, and rubbed his groin against her thighs and ass. Very soon, he could no longer hold back.

"...Tira. On your back."

"Yes, Master."

Tira rolled over and got onto her back. Siegfried climbed onto her, grabbed her legs with his hands, and spread them. He gazed down at her pussy, gripped his dick, and then slowly slid it into her opening. Every inch that he penetrated deeper into her felt even better than the last. Siegfried was washed over by an ecstatic feeling. Tira let out tiny gasps that seemed pained. Siegfried's brow winkled with worry.

"...Tira...are you alright?"

"...I'm fine. Don't worry about me, Master. Treat me however you want. I'm your slave. You can do anything you want to me, and I'll do anything you want for you. I've given all of myself to you, totally and completely. I'm yours, Master. Do as you wish. Have your way with me."

Tira's seductive words pushed Siegfried into an entirely new level of arousal. From that point on, Siegfried let his impulses run wild, doing whatever he wanted with Tira, and making her do whatever he wanted for him, completely having his way with her in any way he desired, as the night dragged on and on...


	3. Soul Embrace

Although Siegfried Schtauffen had regained his sanity and learned to accept his past sins, for a period of time, Soul Edge had still held power over him - but with a cruel twist. It could only use its strength in his sleep. No matter how hard he tried not to fall asleep, he would always eventually give in, and the darkness would continue to operate at night in his subconscious. And, so, for four years, Siegfried had awoken to behold the same scene, night after night - his Zweihänder Requiem bloodied, and the corpses of victims he had murdered in his sleep surrounding him. He tried to forsake civilization, going as far as he could from any inhabited area so that no person would ever be a victim of his nighttime killing sprees - but never to any avail.

Since the day that Siegfried had come forth to reclaim his body as his own for the second time, and become separate from his azure identity, he no longer awoke to find that he had slaughtered countless innocents in his sleep. However, the scenes of death and destruction that had for so long greeted him when he opened his eyes after a night of sleep had become so familiar to him that he associated the very feeling of waking up with a mixture of emotions such as terror and regret.

Which serves to explain Siegfried was considerably surprised when he awoke to see the sight of two large, round, naked breasts.

He stared in silence at the breasts, in a mixture of shock and arousal, until he recognized them - it would have been impossible for him to have not to. He had intimately memorized every inch of these breasts last night.

And, so, memories of yesterday came flooding into Siegfried's mind. He considered his actions. _How very...unlike myself I was yesterday._ Those who had met Siegfried remembered him as a serious and stern man, and struck them as harboring a great amount of guilt and regret. He was not the type of man whom someone could imagine staring intensely yet bashfully at a woman's breasts as he timidly reached for them with trembling hands.

Yet, yesterday, it was as if he had been an entirely different person. His awkwardness and timidness had been a result of being thrust into a situation he was unprepared for...but had enjoyed nonetheless.

Siegfried tilted his head to look up at the one who was to blame for all of this. Tira was still sleeping - Siegfried found a surprising allure in admiring the features of a sleeping beauty. He gazed up at her, thinking of all the two of them had done last night. Eventually, a thought crossed his mind - had it been too early for them to do what they did? After pondering the issue for a short amount of time, Siegfried reasoned that it had been all right. The relationship between he and Tira wasn't a normal one - so normal rules didn't apply. Besides, she was his slave; he was entitled to do whatever he wanted with her...a privilege he had utilized to the fullest last night.

And now, Siegfried's thoughts turned to the concept of him owning a slave. He did not have any sadistic desire to 'own' or 'dominate' another individual - although he certainly had enjoyed it last night. Siegfried had already decided that Tira's company could be extremely useful to him in his quest to seal Soul Edge away forever - and the events of last night only strengthened Siegfried's resolve to keep her. As long as he treated his 'slave' as an equal to himself, then she was the same as a traveling companion, and he need not feel any guilt.

Tira began to stir. Her eyelids lazily slid back, revealing the bright purple gems they shielded. Before long, she found Siegfried's gaze, and a smile formed on Tira's emerald lips.

"Good morning, Master."

Those words sent a shiver down Siegfried's entire body, and right then and there, he decided that he wanted to hear them every morning.

"...Good morning, Tira."

Tira stretched, arching her back, causing her breasts to rise. Siegfried watched contently.

"So, Master...what will we do today?"

Siegfried's blissful vacation finally came to an end. His thoughts returned to his quest. "If I were to set a goal for the day...I would want to be one step closer to sealing Soul Edge."

"Soul Edge...It's been a long time since I heard the story. Hey, Master, how did that story go again?"

Siegfried laid his head back onto a pillow, and looked up at the ceiling, recalling the story.

"...Long ago...I do not know exactly how long, but surely it must have been hundreds of years ago...the sword was forged. It did not bear any significant power at first - but, after being tainted by bloodshed and hatred for countless years, it turned into a demonic weapon that fed on human souls. It was eventually known as 'Soul Edge', and became legendary as it began to appear throughout history.

"Then, a great hero happened upon the sword. He was able to wield the blade for good with his strong will, brought peace to the land, and was hailed as a king by the people. However...the king's son was incredibly jealous of his father, and took the cursed sword for himself. He was overwhelmed instantly by its evil powers, and lost his will to the sword. The king fought against the deranged prince, and shattered the sword into fragments with a mighty blow.

"Unfortunately, the attack took his son's life, as well. The king was devastated by the loss of his son. Most would have submitted to the overwhelming grief, but the king did no such thing. The sword was destroyed, but it was prophesized that the loathsome cursed sword would reappear one day to wreak havoc upon the world. This ill omen steeled the king's resolve - for the sake of the world, as well as his own redemption, he vowed to create a holy sword that could fight against the evil blade's powers.

"The king enlisted the help of the greatest sage in the land in order to accomplish this grand task. He used purified fragments of Soul Edge to create the holy sword. After many failed attempts, he succeeded in forging a blade that he named 'Soul Calibur'. The price of the creation of the blade was high, however, for the king lost his life during the events that led to the creation of the holy sword. However, before he died, he created a sect of guardians to carry out his will - to protect Soul Calibur until the day Soul Edge returned. These guardians lived in seclusion, passing down the sword secretly from generation to generation.

"Eventually, Soul Edge was reconstructed from its shattered fragments. Over the years, strong warriors and those with evil intentions came to possess Soul Edge, and, each time, Soul Calibur was used to prevent the cursed weapon from committing unspeakable atrocities. Stories of the struggle between the two swords were passed on from one generation to another, which were what gave birth to the countless legends and fairy tales."

Siegfried turned to see Tira's reaction to the story. Her eyes were open wide, and she stared at Siegfried in an engrossed way. She reminded Siegfried of a young child sitting on her grandfather's lap as he told her a bedtime story.

"And why did you go after Soul Edge, Master?"

Siegfried felt a tinge of pain. She was inquiring into the deepest and darkest point of his life. As part of his redemption, he was sure to remind himself of his past so that he would never forget about it, but it always made him uncomfortable and ashamed to recall those days. ..._I suppose that, if we are to be companions, then we will have to know about one another..._

"...It's a long story. ...Are you sure you want to hear?"

"Of course! I'd love to learn more about my Master!" Tira replied, as bouncy and bubbly as ever.

"...Alright, then." Siegfried replied, and took a deep breath.

"...About twenty-three years ago, the oppressed peasants of Germany were revolting against the Holy Roman Empire. With its forces weakened by the Italian Wars, the German peasants finally had a fighting chance. One of the champions of the people, a brave knight named Sir Frederick Schtauffen. He was known as the 'Gentle Knight'. While on campaign, he met and fell in love with a woman named Margaret; they spent the night together. When Frederick returned after nine months of battle, he rejoined Margaret, who had given birth to a son. That son was I. I was named 'Siegfried,' after a famous hero. Over the course of the next fifteen years, my father spent a lot of his time teaching me swordsmanship. He wanted me to grow up to become a great warrior.

"One day, my father once again embarked on a foreign crusade. ...Unfortunately, without my father's gentle hand to guide me, I...strayed from the path he had taught me to adhere to. I fell into bad company. We banded together with a group of outlaws. My strength grew, and soon I was the leader of a feared group of thieves. We called ourselves the '_Schwarzwind_' - 'Black Wind.'

"We heard that some cowardly knights were fleeing from the crusades. In a misguided act of national pride, we devised a plan to attack the knights who ran away from the crusades, as they were bound to carry valuable possessions, and whom we felt were too cowardly to deserve respect. That night, we ambushed a group of war-weary soldiers, too fatigued to retaliate. I...even managed to kill the commander himself, but..." Siegfried started to falter in his speech. After taking a moment to recompose himself, he continued. "...As I held the commander's severed head in triumph...the moonlight shone on its face, and...I realized that I held the head of my own father."

Siegfried stopped talking again. He bit his lip, and as Tira watched him, she expected tears to pour forth from his eyes at any second. But, after a few moments, Siegfried began talking again normally.

"...There is only one way in which I can describe what happened to me at that point. My mind...snapped. Yelling in grief and fear, I ran straight into the forest, becoming more and more insane as I ruminated over my previous acts. Eventually, I...I came to a point at which I had convinced myself that my father's murderer was actually someone other than me. And, in a newfound delusion for revenge, I decided that my father's murderer must only be defeated by a specific weapon, so that the vengeance would be all the more satisfying; and that weapon was Soul Edge."

"...Wow..." Tira whispered. She could see from the expression etched in Siegfried's face that it caused him a great deal of pain to recall these events, but her curiosity was building with every moment. Eventually, it got the better of her. "...What happened then?"

"...First, I traveled to here - Ostrheinsburg Castle. It was then the refuge of the noble Sir Stefan. It was quite well known in the region that he carried a legendary sword - I believed it to be Soul Edge. I joined his forces, rising in rank with the hopes of eventually stealing the blade. During a siege on the castle, I saw an opportunity to take Sir Stefan's prized possession, the sword Grimblade, and...killed him. I ran off with it into the Black Woods nearby the castle, but only to find that the sword held no power. Frustrated, I continued to search for weeks for Soul Edge, growing increasingly more insane and hungry for its power as time passed.

"Following clues, I finally determined the true wielder of Soul Edge - the dreaded pirate Cervantes de Leon, who had wreaked havoc among the Spanish seas with the cursed blade. I traveled to the Spanish port that he had used as a base. A search turned up nothing – until I decided to search his ship, the Adrian, which was still anchored there. As I climbed aboard it, I found only what appeared to be the corpse of a pirate captain...gripping Soul Edge. Soul Edge had been partially destroyed, but the remains of the evil blade had not lost all of its powers.

"The cursed blade had been waiting for a moment like this - the corpse lit up in a hellish blaze of fire, and attacked me. However, the evil sword was no match for my madness, and Cervantes was once again defeated. Soul Edge fell into a crazed, unstable state as it lost its host. Mesmerized by the powers of the blazing hellfire, I reached for the blade...An incredibly foolish act.

"At the precise moment that I grasped the hilt of the sword, the history of massacre within Soul Edge traveled into me. All of the anger...the sadness...the agony...the horror...it devoured me. It consumed me completely. My mind and body were too immature to contain it, and evil energy began to flow out of me. The energy pierced the heavens as a column of white light, and spread thorough the world. That was the phenomenon came to be known as the Evil Seed...

Tira's body tensed up at the mention of the Evil Seed. Siegfried had not expected this reaction from her, but continued speaking.

"After the sword merged with me like a parasite, it began to use me for its own purpose. It made me obsessed with a new quest - to bring my father back to life with the power of Soul Edge, and to avenge his murder. I thought that, if only I could devour enough souls, my father would be resurrected. This was a delusion that Soul Edge planted in my mind to make me harvest souls for it. When my self-induced brainwashing had worn off, and I finally remembered that it was I who had actually killed my own father, it was too late - the sword had totally enslaved me with its power. I became but a puppet. I wielded the sword no longer - the sword now wielded _me_. And that is when I became the Azure Knight – 'Nightmare'.

"Over the course of three years, I formed a partnership with three other individuals. No - we were not necessarily partners...just a loose collection of beings with overlapping interests. We possessed different motives...although we all cooperated with one another for various reasons. Each of them aided me in Soul Edge's quest to devour souls for a rejuvenation ceremony to be performed in my chosen stronghold...Ostrheinsburg Castle. I did succeed in resurrecting my father, but, I came to the realization that this 'resurrection' was merely an illusion of my own weakened soul. Eventually, I was defeated by someone who had arrived to destroy Soul Edge. As my wounded body lay on the ground, I began to become the dominant force in my own mind again. I regained my sanity, becoming my former self.

"I spent a great deal of time meditating on all that I had seen and done, and eventually decided to accept responsibility for my sins. I decided to return to my mother, who had no knowledge of anything that occurred during or after that fateful night three years ago. As my hand rose to knock on her door, I heard words of prayer in the voice of my mother from within the house. She was praying that my soul may see peace. It was then that I realized that I was unworthy to see my mother, and that I could not return until I had settled everything. I left the town of my childhood with a refreshed will.

"...However...every time I awoke from a night's rest...I found myself surrounded by corpses. Soul Edge still had power over me. It took over my body while I was asleep, and caused me to murder nearby people. I gradually fell under the influence of the sword once again, and slowly transformed back into a being worthy of the name 'Nightmare'...

"As Nightmare, I desperately pursued fragments of Soul Edge, that I might fully restore it. As I plundered powerful souls and recovered shattered fragments of the sword, the cracks in the Soul Edge's surface healed, one by one. My goal of reviving the sword was nearly complete, and I returned once more to my old stronghold, so that I could be in the Ostrheinsburg Chapel when I restored the blade to its true power. But, just as I was about to begin my ceremony, I was interrupted once again, by yet another warrior seeking to destroy Soul Edge. At the end of the fierce battle, I stood victorious; but, just before I administered my finishing blow, a faint hint of the will of my true self emerged and attempted to fight off Soul Edge's influence for a second time. The battle between my two personalities waged in the mind of a singular being, causing my body to stand motionless in distraction. The warrior conjured up all of his remaining strength and unleashed a desperate pierce into the center of Soul Edge's eye. As the will of Soul Edge desperately clawed to keep its grasp on my body, I managed to reclaim my body as my own.

"I quickly thought back in a daze over all I had done. Just then, a sword appeared within the light: the holy sword Soul Calibur. It had been trapped inside the Soul Edge all this time, waiting for a force strong enough to free it, for its fateful battle to occur. As if guided by a mysterious force, I grabbed Soul Calibur by its hilt, and drove it into the evil eye that was the core of Soul Edge.

"The blow that Soul Calibur had administered, however, was not enough to destroy Soul Edge. The malevolent energy of Soul Edge had quieted, but the holy sword itself, still lodged in the cursed blade's eye, had gone silent, too, as if it had lost its power. I knew that this result was not enough to ensure that the reign of Soul Edge would never appear again, so I forced my weary mind into motion and began to think. First, I threw off the detestable azure armor and smashed it to pieces, vowing to truly atone for my sins once and for all. Then, taking both Soul Edge and Soul Calibur in hand, I left Ostrheinsburg Chapel. That was...a relatively short time ago. Since then, I have merely been traveling the land, seeking information...until I was led here."

Tira seemed to be absolutely amazed by all that she had heard. "...So, you...have Soul Edge and Soul Calibur with you?"

Siegfried nodded. He pointed a finger to the other side of the room, where a large satchel lay, bulging with its contents. Tira's purple eyes grew wide.

"Can I...see it?"

Siegfried smirked slightly. "You may."

The two of them rose from bed, and crossed the room. Tira stood before the satchel, seemingly too scared to look inside of it. Siegfried untied the knot that kept the bag closed, and pulled the bag down, revealing what it covered. Tira beheld its contents.

The satchel did, indeed, hold Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. The two of them were lodged within one another, Soul Calibur driven straight through the bizarre eye in the center of Soul Edge. The portion that was Soul Edge was meaty and fleshy, red, orange, and yellow in color, with a blade on one side of it and tentacle-like growths on the other side. The tentacles spiraled and twisted around the blade and hilt of Soul Calibur. Soul Calibur looked more like a conventional sword - but was with its own form of bizarre appearance. The blade was decorated with symbols, and the portion between the blade and the handle was an orb that faintly glowed a dull blue, surrounded by rocky and ice-like stones with spiky and fin-like obtrusions.

"It almost appears as if the two of them are frozen in some sort of twisted embrace, does it not? The Soul Embrace...I've felt compelled to call it by this name."

Interested by Siegfried's analogy, Tira leaned forward to get a better look at it.

The eyeball rolled down to stare her in the eyes, and blinked.

Tira yelped and leapt back. When she looked at the sword again, the eye was in the same position it in was before.

Siegfried put his hand on her shoulder. "Tira? What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_? That eyeball _blinked_ at me!"

Siegfried wrinkled his brow. "I didn't see anything like that...but I believe you. This cursed blade...nothing good can come of it!" He quickly pulled the bag back over Soul Edge, and then tied the knot. When he turned back to face Tira, she was staring at him in amazement.

"Master...you're such an amazing person. All you've been through...it's more than happens in ten normal lifetimes!"

Siegfried chuckled a little. Then, he realized that this was an opportunity to ask something that had been on his mind. "And, what about you, Tira? What's your life like? I'd like to learn about you."

Tira seemed flattered that he wished to know about her. She bit her lip, looked up at the ceiling in thought, and then sat on the bed.

"...My earliest memories are of...killing."

"...Killing?"

"Yes. I don't know who my parents are. I was raised from birth to be an assassin. I don't know how it came to be. It's just been my life for as far back as I can remember."

Siegfried felt a mixture of intrigue and sympathy. "Please go on."

"The people who raised me were from an underground organization that went by the name of 'Bird of Passage.' We operated from the shadows - affiliated with no single side, keeping our existence secret, and influencing the history of Europe from behind the scenes. My days were spent...either killing, or working to improve my skills."

"Were you...happy with this life?"

"Yes. ...No. ...I wasn't. I acted cheerful, and pretended to enjoy my job...but I wasn't happy, and I didn't enjoy my job...or my life. I didn't even know the true feelings that lay buried deep within my heart...I still don't. So, I just kept on pretending, fooling myself every day, just to shield myself from the truth. ...Hey, that's another way we're similar, isn't it?

"...Anyway, the turning point came when the Evil Seed rained down. I...forget exactly where I was, but I was in the middle of a mission, and the evil energy burnt the mind of my leader. The chain of command quickly collapsed. I was suddenly set free from the underground world, and thrust into a completely different world that I knew nothing about.

"For a while, I was taken in by a family. It was an ordinary family, I suppose...in an ordinary city...with ordinary people. I thought to myself that this life might be okay, too...but..."

Tira paused. Siegfried saw in her what he'd felt in himself a few minutes ago. He felt that she was about to reveal something to him that was the equivalent of his murdering his father.

"...Those peaceful days didn't last for very long. The family had a child that was keeping a bird as a pet...I'm still not even sure why I did it, but, I set the bird free. I remember being so happy with myself...but the child burst into tears, and the parents scolded me. I remember being overcome with rage, and feeling like they had committed a horrible sin by scolding me for what I'd done...and...the next thing I remember after that...is looking down at my hands, seeing them dripping with blood and then looking around the room to see the family laying dead around me. That was when I realized that I was different from other people...in a very fundamental way...And could never live peacefully among them.

"...I began a life of aimless wandering. I grew more and more confused, but instead of trying to solve my problems, I just ignored them. Things just got worse and worse...that was when...I heard about you, Master. ...And you know the rest from there."

Siegfried sat with his elbow on his knee and his chin in his palm as he listened to Tira's story. When she was done, it seemed as if the final piece of a puzzle had fallen into place. _I finally understand why she is so desperate for a Master._

THUNK 

"...What was that?"

Siegfried raised a finger to his lips. "Shh! ...I think that someone else has entered this Inn. Quickly - put your clothes on." He whispered.

The two of them hurriedly dressed themselves. Then, Tira began sniffing the air.

"...What is it? Do you smell something?"

"Smells like smoke."

Siegfried sniffed the air as well. "...It does!" He reached for the handle of the door, and opened it - to face a wall of black smoke. The smoke poured into the room from the top of the doorway. It washed across the ceiling looking like a wave, as if gravity had inverted itself. The roar of a fire was coming from downstairs, as well as a wave of heat.

"But, why would someone set this Inn on fire? ...Master?" Tira turned to Siegfried, who seemed to be lost in thought.

"...Please...please, don't let it be-"

"NIGHTMARE!" A voice suddenly crowed out from downstairs. "NIGHTMARE! I KNOW YOU'RE UP THERE! I'VE COME TO TAKE MY REVENGE!"

"...No...!..." Siegfried gritted his teeth, shut his eyes tight, and hung his head.

"...Master?"

"...Those seeking Nightmare...to avenge their loved ones...occasionally appear in my path to challenge me. The voice coming from downstairs...I recognize it. Not the person, but their intentions - they are young, and full of anger. That can be a deadly combination."

"NIGHTMARE! YOU CAN DIE A COWARD'S DEATH IN THE FLAMES, OR I CAN GRANT YOU AN HONORABLE DEATH BY MY BLADE! THE CHOICE IS YOURS!"

"What will we do, Master? Kill him?"

"I have no desire to further stain myself with more sins. I avoid killing whenever possible. But, if worse comes to worst, then I have no choice but to-"

The Inn suddenly gave a loud shudder.

"Tira...we have no time. We must escape. Come!"


	4. Courage Ablaze

Siegfried and Tira hurried down the stairs to the ground floor of the inn. Siegfried heard the inn creak again - and this time the sound came from directly above them. He looked up, and saw that the rafters that supported the ceiling were on fire - and they were starting to give way!

"...TIRA, GET DOWN!"

Siegfried put one arm around Tira, and then leapt forward, landing at the bottom of the stairs, and rolling as he hit the floor. A mere few feet behind them, the flaming rafters crashed to the ground, causing a portion of the floor to cave in. One moment earlier, and they would have met their dooms.

They now had just one hallway to pass through before they were at the inn's exit - but it was practically an obstacle course. Flames and holes where the floor had collapsed dotted the hallway. On either side of the hallway were paintings - beautiful, gorgeous paintings - that were all being blackened and eaten by flames. Standing in the very middle of it the gruesome scene was the arson himself.

He wore a colorful amalgamation of clothing - a green vest, a brown tunic, and a purple shirt - none of his clothing looked like it came from the same land; it was evidence that this man, as young as he looked, had traveled much in his life. He also wore large armored boots that looked like they would be worn by a knight; whether the man was a former knight or had merely killed one and taken his armor, Siegfried would never know, but it was only more testimony to the fact that the man had experience. He wielded a blade - a simple, thin sword, nothing special about it - but he held it like he knew how to use it. His hair was brown and slicked back, and his eyebrows were naturally narrowed, giving the man an appearance that made him look almost naturally sinister.

"...So, Nightmare! You finally choose to show yourself! I was beginning to worry that I wouldn't get to have the honor of sending you to hell personally!" Siegfried could hear the desire for revenge caressing every syllable the man spoke.

"Want me to take care of him, Master?" Tira asked nonchalantly.

"No, Tira - this isn't your fight."

The man leaned forward slightly. "...I didn't know there was someone with you." He looked up and down Tira's form, causing Siegfried slight discomfort. "Hmm...a whore, I suppose."

Tira gritted her teeth. "_Now_ it's my fight." She took a step forward, but Siegfried held out his arm to stop her.

"Tira, no. Let me try to reason with him." He stepped forward, held out his arms in a gesture of peace, and spoke to the man.

"Please, listen to me! I know what sorrow you must feel. I, too, know what it feels like to lose someone very close, and even how the desire burns to take their life in revenge. But, you must hear me! I am _not_ Nightmare!"

"...HA! You can't fool me! I took Nightmare for a murderer, but not for a coward who'd try to lie his way out of a fight! I've done a lot of research to be led here! You can't be anyone _but_ Nightmare! You're not clad in Azure armor, but you still look just like him - who else wields a sword of that size?" The man retorted, pointing his sword at the Zweihänder strapped to Siegfried's back.

"It is true that I was once Nightmare, but I am him no more! Nightmare was destroyed the moment I flung off that azure armor and smashed it to pieces! However - if you truly want revenge, you will let me pass, so that I may seal Soul Edge away forever to prevent such abominations as the Azure Knight from ever-"

"_Silence!_ I will listen to your lies _no longer_!"

The entire inn shuddered, and the sound of falling rafters was heard again.

"...If you don't back down now, we will _all_ die here." Siegfried warned.

"I would be content with dying here..._as long as I send you to hell first_!"

The man lunged forward. Siegfried reached over his shoulder and grabbed his Zweihänder, Requiem. He swung the sword parallel to the ground, but with the blade held perpendicular to the ground - he did not want to chop the man in half. The swing kept the man at a distance, as Siegfried had wanted it to - but the man did not give up. He lunged again, swinging his sword vertically. Siegfried used his sword as a shield against the attack, and stepped backwards. He spun around, swinging the sword as he did so to parry a blow from his attacker, following up by going into a defensive stance. The man was once again too close, so Siegfried swung his sword vertically, bringing it smashing into the floor, to make him back up.

_The battle won't end like this. I'll need to deal a blow to him._

Siegfried switched from his defensive stance to an aggressive posture. "I am sorry, but this must end now!"

With a shout, Siegfried swung his sword horizontally.

_CLANG!_

Siegfried's blade had struck the man's sword, snapping it in two, and sending both pieces flying across the room. But Siegfried didn't stop. He whirled around, and swung his sword again. The flat side of the blade slammed into the man's body, sending him flying a few feet through the air to land on his back. Siegfried stood above him. As the man looked up, he saw Siegfried's sword coming down straight at his head. He shut his eyes, and tried the best he could to prepare for death.

He heard a loud sound. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Siegfried had merely planted his blade in the floor - missing the man's head by less than an inch. Leaving his blade there, Siegfried bent down, picked up the man, and slung him over his shoulder. He then took up the blade again, and turned to face Tira.

"Tira! Come quickly! This inn could collapse any second!"

Bearing the man on his shoulder, Siegfried dashed down the hallway and past the lobby. He and Tira made it out of the inn - no sooner than a second after the entire building collapsed in an enormous display of flame, smoke, and ash.

After Siegfried and Tira had gotten a safe distance away from the wreckage, Siegfried set the man down on the ground. The man simply stared at Siegfried, puzzled and confused.

"...Why...why did you..."

"I will not allow my hands to become more stained with blood than they already are. And there was no need for you to die such a pointless death at an age so young."

The man's eyes and mouth opened widely, and he stared at Siegfried in awe.

"...I apologize for whatever sin I committed against you as Nightmare. I don't know what I did, how horrible it was, and I don't want to know. I don't want to bear the weight of even one more..." Siegfried's voice trailed off, and his expression changed to a solemn one. "...No. Tell me. What _did_ I do? I should know what I have done."

The man now stared at Siegfried not with an expression of hatred, but with one that resembled humility. "...You..." He corrected himself. "...Nightmare...killed my brother."

Siegfried closed his eyes and turned his face upwards. During a few moments of silence, the man and Tira stared at Siegfried, not even able to guess at what thoughts he could be thinking.

When Siegfried was done meditating on whatever troubles had weighed upon his mind, he faced the man again. "...I will avenge your brother for you...when I seal Soul Edge away forever. ...You have my _word_." Siegfried grasped the man's hand to show his sincerity. The man slowly nodded, in too much shock to speak.

"...Can you move?"

The man slowly sat up.

"Good. You should rest, and recover your strength. ...But, when you are well again, you should leave here as soon as you possibly can. This land..." Siegfried's eyes moved from left to right, scanning Ostrheinsburg. "...is poisoned with evil."

The man looked down, unable to bring himself to even look at Siegfried.

Knowing that nothing more needed to be said, Siegfried stood up, turned around, and set out on the path that let out of Ostrheinsburg. After taking a moment to look at Siegfried, then the man, and then Siegfried again, Tira hurried down the path after him.

The two of them walked out of Ostrheinsburg, on a trail into the forest. Tira wasn't sure where Siegfried intended to go from here, or how he intended to get there, but the look on his face did not seem to be that of a man without a destination. However, something else troubled her.

There was something she hadn't told Siegfried - given what she'd learned about him, she had deemed it unwise to let him know a certain detail about her. Now, she realized that certain detail was going to be even more of a problem than she had previously thought.

Since her first assassinations as a mere child, the act of killing had become a regular routine in Tira's life - so much that she felt no feelings of sorrow or guilt from taking another's life. It is a fact that when one is exposed to something several times a day for their entire life, they often grow a tolerance for it. However, Tira hadn't just grown desensitized to death - she had grown _addicted_ to it. She was addicted to the stimulation that killing provided, and often was unable to go without killing someone at least once a day.

When Tira was thrust into the 'real world', and found that her desires were unacceptable, Tira had tried to change - but, with her ultimate failure resulting in the deaths of her foster family, Tira had given up on changing her ways. Since then, she'd continued regularly taking lives - sometimes with justifiable reason, but usually without it.

After hearing from Siegfried how he was plagued with guilt for the massacres he had committed as Nightmare, Tira had judged that she shouldn't tell him about her 'habit' just yet - but, having just witnessed Siegfried spare the life of a man who had minutes ago tried to burn him alive, Tira realized how important of a matter this truly was. How could she tell a righteous knight on a quest for redemption that she was literally addicted to killing? It was incredible that two individuals with such fundamental differences had actually managed to get along with one another for the time they had. Siegfried would never accept her way of life. The news would dissatisfy him; and a slave that was dissatisfactory to her master was worthless. He'd reject her - cast her aside like garbage. It was possible that he would even decide to kill her to prevent her from committing further atrocities!

Tira made her decision. Siegfried could never, ever be allowed to learn of her morbid addictions. But, just keeping it in the dark wasn't good enough - as long as she was doing something her master would disapprove of, she was a bad slave. She'd have to change herself. She'd have to..._stop killing_. Just the thought nearly made her retch.

She tried to convince herself that what she was choosing was right. _I should never have given up trying to stop in the first place. Learning to live without killing is the only way I can have a normal life. I'll think of it as a type of quest. And, maybe if...I mean when, I finally break my habit, I'll tell Master. He'll be so proud of me!_ The thought of words of praise from her Master finalized her decision. Tira would try once more to stop killing.


	5. Wreathing Blade of Isolation

_Too many...There have been too many. I just can't do this any more._

Ivy was at her limit. She ran down the corridor at top speed. She had wanted to repay Nightmare for helping her create the Ivy Blade, and so she had helped him in his quest to resurrect his father. However, 'helping' Nightmare had consisted of killing - senseless killing. Nightmare, his allies, and herself had killed hundreds of innocent victims, one after another - looking back on it, it all seemed like one endless massacre. Some of those whom they had killed had been no more than devoted souls seeking the truth - and, all the while, the monstrous eye of Nightmare's bizarre sword had almost seemed to smile in satisfaction.

Now, she had seen too much. Too many. Too many victims just for one resurrection. In desperation, she searched for a deeper meaning to justify her actions. What was the true purpose of these tragedies? This question raced through her mind with frequency, but never bore any answer.

She loathed the vile beasts that had carried out these massacres like cold executioners.

She was sure that the bloodthirsty giant Astaroth enjoyed the slaughtering, and the beast deemed Lizardman was clearly not a creature from the earth. Its eyes bore no emotion despite its heartless acts. Moreover, everyone, including Nightmare, seemed to be plotting something terrible.

_I just can't help it anymore. I've got to get out of here._

And, so, driven nearly to madness from the guilt of the countless sins she had committed while merely trying to help one whom had helped her, Ivy ran. She ran as fast as she could, and her only destination was away from the wretched castle she was in. A monster stood watch at the back gate of the castle, so she had to find another way out that would also allow her to avoid detection. The castle had a number of unusual architectural features, such as hidden staircases leading to secret rooms, rare amethyst-glass windows, and unexpected gables. Ivy had chosen a secret underground passage for her escape.

In the dark narrow isle, however, she felt uneasy - as if the eye of Nightmare's sword was gazing upon her at that very moment. To her relief, in the distance, she saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, and her steps quickened. She finally exited the long, dark corridor, a cold blast of air hitting her in the face as she emerged onto the defensive walls of the castle. However, she was not relieved to be out of the tunnel - for there were others waiting for her there. Who stood before her was none other than Astaroth and his clay golem subordinates. They all glared at her like she was a criminal...no - like she was prey.

It was Astaroth who broke the silence. "Hm..." The golem said, as if in thought - but his tone was sarcastic, and did not imply curiosity in the least. "How strange...that you are using an underground passage. Might I ask where you are going in such a hurry..._Madam Valentine_?" His last two words dripped with mockery. He wore a mask across the bottom of his face, covering his mouth, but creases in the mask revealed that he was smirking.

"I'm leaving." Ivy replied simply. "I will no longer hold company with brutal creatures like you. I'm going now, to complete my own quest."

Upon hearing her words, Astaroth burst into a fit of roaring laughter. "HA HA HA! ...You stupid bitch!" He spat at her. "The object of your quest, Soul Edge, has sat in front, of you all this time! Didn't you feel anything when you gazed upon the eye?"

_...W...What did he say? That Nightmare's sword is...Soul Edge? ...I felt an evil aura from the blade, but that was not proof enough for me to call it Soul Edge. Above all, if it were Soul Edge, he would have never let me, who wants to destroy the blade, near him. ...Or, maybe he thought that I was no threat to him because I am a mere woman..._

"...Of course, I could not care less." The golem spat. Besides - the time is fast approaching. Now, you will devote your soul to the blade!"

Quickly dodging a sudden attack from the giant's axe, Ivy leapt a few feet back and drew her Ivy Blade.

"You are a spare host, I've heard!" Astaroth said with such confidence that it seemed as if he knew everything.

_A spare host? What could that mean?_ That Nightmare had kept Ivy around to serve as a potential replacement for himself, should he fall? Suddenly, everything fell into place. Soul Edge was manipulating everyone - it had used Astaroth and Lizardman as its 'hands' to recover its strength with no risk to itself or its host. And Nightmare's final plan could only be to have the evil blade eat the souls of Astaroth and Lizardman!

Ivy was stunned for a moment with this thought, and Astaroth seized the opportunity that her hesitation provided. The giant's blade was already coming down on her head when she had regained her mental focus. Narrowly, she dodged the axe's blade, but the hilt slammed her against the wall. Astaroth stood in front of a defeated Ivy, and smiled.

Suddenly, the clay golems behind him became noisy.

"...What's happening?"

The golems continued to chatter.

"...Three strong souls approach? Hm...This is a good thing. A good thing, indeed..." Upon his subordinates' report, Astaroth turned his back to Ivy, and began to leave. Ivy slowly hoisted herself back up.

"What? Running away? I can't let you go! Tell me what you meant when you said-"

"Sorry." Astaroth interrupted her in a tone that implied anything but apology. He spoke to her without stopping or turning around. "I'm leaving for a more..._productive_ hunt. Ha! But, worry not! These golems will finish my work and take your soul for the blade."

The giant left, and the clay golems all lunged at Ivy at once.

---

A breathless Ivy stood in a pool of melted clay. Her beautiful face and body were covered in mud, her strength was gone, and her consciousness fading. Desperately, she made her way back to the passage. She refused to believe Astaroth's words, and needed to talk with Nightmare directly.

"Stop, child of the evil sword!"

The voice that had rung out was that of a young woman, and came from behind Ivy.

As Ivy looked back, she saw an Asian woman in strange clothing standing at the entrance of the corridor. Ivy hadn't been aware of the woman's presence, and didn't know how long she had been nearby. With her last bit of strength, Ivy brandished her blade to prepare for a possible battle, but the woman stopped her attack with a short sword drawn from her waist. In the moment the blades clashed, Ivy Blade wreathed on the short sword, and began to shed a dark and evil aura. Affected by the dark aura, the trees surrounding them groaned in pain. Ivy and the Asian woman stumbled back.

"...What? What was that?" Ivy muttered, puzzled.

"My sword bears a crack delivered to it by Soul Edge." Said the woman. "Your sword resonates with mine...it could only be a product of Soul Edge itself."

"A product of that evil sword...so...so it's true..." Ivy looked down at her blade. It had, indeed, been completed with the power of Soul Edge. _...How stupid I am...I, who, in order to destroy Soul Edge, entrusted the very power of that evil sword itself..._

"...One more fact." The Asian woman spoke. "The blood of the evil blade runs in your veins, as well."

The woman had now called not only her blade the child of the evil sword, but Ivy as well. "...What?"

"Once, I fought with a man who bore an aura similar to yours. That man was the previous owner of the evil sword. This has been an interesting encounter, but I may not stay. Farewell." The woman jumped back onto the ramparts, and then quickly left to attend to her own business.

"Wai...wait! What do you mean? ...Do you mean that my true father is...!"

_...Captain Cervantes De Leon, the immortal pirate?_

The woman had never said the name, but Cervantes had been the previous owner of the sword. Dumbfounded by the revelations that had occurred in the past few minutes, Ivy stared blankly at the rampart where the woman once stood.

Her state of shock was shattered when she heard a heavy noise from inside the castle. Those three trespassers must have been more than Astaroth had expected. Ivy drew her exhausted body toward the dark castle once more - this time with a new will.

_...If this is true...then I will cut Nightmare to pieces._

Knowing that she had been deceived was the only power that moved her now.

---

Nightmare was dead...but not by Ivy's hand. She hadn't even been able to see who killed him, or how - the battle was long over and all participants were long gone by the time she had reached the spot where it had taken place. Despite the death of the demon, her blade still held the breath of life. But, now, the its undead life had a different source...

...The cursed blood running through Ivy's body.

---

Valentine Mansion is a sad sight indeed to those who beheld it. The Valentine family was one of the most famous and rich families in all of Europe. However, the master of the mansion, Count Valentine, was a man obsessed with a mystery, and his obsession drove the family into despair. He died in madness, and by the time of his death, he had squandered both his family's reputation and fortunes, leaving one of London's most distinguished families in ruins. The famous Valentine family was destroyed in a single generation. Most regard the dark and abandoned Valentine mansion and its deceased mad count with pity.

However, a light flickers in one corner of the building, for the old mansion still has one inhabitant - Isabella Valentine.

Isabella Valentine was raised with love as the daughter of the noble English Valentine family. As if to pursue her husband into death, the Countess fell dreadfully ill and passed away soon after Count Valentine's death. This left Ivy as the sole surviving member of the Valentine family.

On her deathbed, her tender mother revealed to Ivy a secret that her parents had kept from her for many years - in reality, Ivy was not a true Valentine by birth. The Count and Countess had found her abandoned in front of their mansion when she was an infant, and she was taken into the family as an adopted child. However, Ivy was too devastated with remorse to care about her "true parents" - she would forever consider the Valentines her parents, by birth or not.

As she was collecting her parents' possessions, she discovered her father's diary. In the diary, she finally found out exactly what it was that the count had become obsessed with - Soul Edge - a weapon known as the "Key to Eternal Youth." He had become a practitioner of alchemy in order to pursue the sword. When Ivy learned that her father had given up his life in pursuit of the sword, something in her mind snapped.

_My father was driven mad by such a loathsome thing...This...this evil sword!_ Her newfound despair and rage gave her a new goal in life - to destroy the sword, and cleanse the Valentine name.

To destroy the evil sword, she needed an even more powerful weapon. Ivy researched countless weapons to find one that was suitable for her quest to destroy Soul Edge. In the end, she was unsatisfied with all of her choices - and made the decision to create her own unique weapon, instead.

An Asian multi-segmented whip intrigued her, and she formulated an idea for a weapon that could change its shape back and forth from sword to whip. Every drop of her intellect and skill was poured into countless prototypes before she finally perfected her weapon – the "Snake Sword." She named her own specific Snake Sword the Ivy Blade. It was an incredible weapon, and was just as she had envisioned it - it had the ability to expand and contract at will. However, as amazing an achievement as it was, in Ivy's eyes, the weapon was merely a lifeless tool that could only change its shape mechanically; it could never defeat a living demonic blade. In order to use her weapon's true potential, it needed to live, as well.

She tried everything she could think of to bring the sword to life, even giving it her own blood to the sword. Once she found her understanding of alchemy useless, she began to explore ancient sorcery, and repeated summoning rituals every midnight. But, just like her father, she lost her temper, and struggled with rage. One night, her desperate desire finally summoned a malformed arm into the summoning gate. Isabella stared blankly at the arm, as it sensed her attachment to her beloved sword, and fused itself to it. Then, a voice without sound uttered, "I, Cross of the Pledge, shall confer onto thee the Point in the Escutcheon of Destruction - _Dexter Purpure_." The being disappeared, and the ceremony ended. Under frozen moonlight, the embodiment of Isabella's insanity, her Ivy Blade, cracked and twisted as it became something unholy.

Her sword was alive - completed, beyond her wildest dreams! It was now that she finally saw herself fit to embark on a journey to destroy Soul Edge. A warrior with a strong drive to find Soul Edge and the wielder of Soul Edge itself were practically fated to meet - and meet they did. Ivy came across Nightmare, but, at the time, Ivy did not know that the bizarre blade Nightmare wielded was, in fact, Soul Edge. Because of his malformed arm, she did, however, recognize him as the 'voice without sound' whom had breathed life into her sword, and, feeling a debt to him, agreed to assist him in the resurrection of his father, the entire time blind to the fact that he wielded Soul Edge.

Shaken by the horrifying truths she learned at Ostrheinsburg Castle, Ivy returned home and locked herself away in her dark laboratory. She was filled with self-hatred and regret, and with nothing to channel her dark feelings into, she turned her hatred to her Ivy Blade, now seeing it as a symbol of her failures. She tried countless times to destroy the weapon, but she could never bring herself to actually break the sword. _I am the same as this sword...yes, the blood of the evil blade flows through me. The same blood..._

The Ivy Blade itself did nothing but wait for its master's orders silently.

Slipping into the darkest point in her entire life, Ivy holed herself up in her laboratory for months upon months. However, Ivy spent these months productively, soul searching and rethinking her life. When Ivy finally emerged from her laboratory, she was like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon - she was now a new person with a renewed resolve. Her desire was now to completely wipe Soul Edge out of existence. As a vow to her commitment, she renamed the Ivy Blade "Valentine." And, when she acquired information about fragments of Soul Edge being scattered throughout the world, she immediately departed on her new journey.

Ivy intended to destroy every fragment of Soul Edge, anyone who carried its tainted bloodline, and anyone contaminated by its evil - even if it meant eventually ending her own life, as well. She had come to learn that there would be no hope for those seduced by the sword - no cure besides death. Her resolution would result in spilled blood, both guilty and innocent; but nothing could sway her determination. Nothing would stop her from destroying the root of the evil. The only thing that mattered was obliterating the evil sword's existence completely. _Call me a monster, a demon if you must. I'll be happy to be called those names if it is the price I must pay to eliminate the existence of the evil blade!_

Over the course of her journey, Ivy's sword had begun to change. It was unstable. She decided to return to her alchemy lab in order to investigate this. Once there, she would have access to her equipment. On the way home, she stopped into a certain academic English town. There, she bought some books about the secret arts. Both old and new books, gathered one place - a goldmine to one such as herself. When she returned home, she looked through the books she had bought. One of them stood out. Amazingly, it thoroughly revealed the nature of Soul Edge. As far as she knew, this was the most detailed information ever gathered on the subject. As she deciphered the ancient text, she discovered information concerning a related sword - Soul Calibur. It was a sword that restrained the power of the evil sword, and fought against it. This seemed almost too good to be true, but the precise nature of the text didn't seem to be fiction.

Over the course of a month, Ivy discovered every detail about the sword. The thought that it existed excited her. She closed her eyes in contemplation, and began to think. The alchemist had not slept in several nights, and with her eyes closed, she began to drift into the seductive embrace of slumber...

---

It was some time into the night when Ivy suddenly awoke with a start. She had been having a nightmare - a dream recalling the events of that fateful night when she'd learned so many things at once, and had her entire world seemingly collapse. It was a night she revisited in her dreams every few months - as if she was not allowing herself to forget what had happened. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up - but what made her more alert was the sound of heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway. _What? An intruder, in my mansion?_ The footsteps grew louder as they approached her, and the surreal experience made Ivy wonder if she was still dreaming.

The door to her laboratory slowly opened, creaking as it did so. A man stepped through the doorway, and into the room. He was tall, and cloaked in a white robe. His skin was dark brown, and his face was stern...it was the look of the people who lived in the south. One more remarkable fact about him was that he had a golden orb sitting in his left eye socket.

"Who are you?" Ivy demanded of the man in a firm tone.

"Did you read the book?"

The voice that the man responded with was quiet and calm - but the tone it carried was cold. The two of them stared at one another, each as silent as death. They looked into one another's eyes, each awaiting a reply from the other, but neither receiving anything but a cold glare. However, it was in this silence that they both learned the answers to their respective questions.

Ivy instinctively reached for her still-unstable Ivy Blade with one hand, and grabbed the book with her other hand. The man produced a scythe - seemingly from out of nowhere, most likely using some form of concealing magic. _We're really going to have to fight. I don't want to do this, being tired and with an unstable weapon, but he's an intruder, and if he seeks to take this book from me, I cannot allow it._

A fierce battle ensued in the form of a flurry of clashing steel. The man swung his scythe, striking very precise strikes, but Ivy was able to deflect them all. However, she had to concentrate harder than usual to control her sword. This slight distraction gave the man an opening, and he slammed the shaft of his scythe against her. Ivy was knocked back by the force of the blow. She dropped the book, and the man picked it up.

"...This...is a mistake from my past." The man muttered to himself in his calm, cold voice. "The world no longer needs this..."

While in his hands, the book suddenly burst into flames. He dropped it onto the floor. The book burnt to ash in mere seconds, but the flames did not spread. Ivy noted the man's magical prowess, but did not give up.

"Stop!" Ivy shouted, and began to rise. The man extended his arm towards Ivy, and made several gestures with his hand. As he did so, a dark aura surrounded his hand, and Ivy felt as if something was holding her down - she could not rise. With Ivy bound to the floor by the man's spell, he stood above her. He raised his scythe above his head, and for a moment, as the man was silhouetted by the light behind him, appearing pitch black to her, Ivy thought that she was beholding Death himself. However, the man slowly lowered his scythe.

"...No...there is use for this one yet." He muttered slowly, and a grin formed upon his face. Ivy's eyes grew wide, and she watched the man anxiously, in fear of what he might be considering. Finally, the man spoke. "...Child of Soul Edge, I have news for you. Nightmare cometh."

Ivy's eyes flew wide open. "Night...Nightmare? What?"

"Tell me. Do you wish to learn everything there is to know about the cursed sword and the spirit sword?"

Ivy merely watched the man uncertainly with suspicious eyes. "...Y...Yes." She finally answered.

"Nightmare has been resurrected, and is on his way here. He fears you, and seeks to kill you. If you can manage to defeat him, then all of the knowledge you seek will be yours. A word of warning: Nightmare may appear human, but, no matter how he seems, what he says, or what he does, he is Nightmare all the same. He fooled you once; don't let him fool you again." With these words, the man slowly began to move backwards. Ivy looked at his feet, and saw that he was not walking. He was simply sliding backwards. He slipped into some shadows, and then seemed to melt into them, until he was simply gone - vanished.

After staring at the spot where he had dematerialized in shock, and then realizing that the mysterious force pinning her to the ground was gone, Ivy scrambled to her feet. Ivy looked into the darkness once more, this time not in shock, but in thought.

She had lost the book, but its contents were etched into her memory. And, although she felt pure hatred for this enigma of a man who had intruded into her laboratory, defeated her, and destroyed the book...she knew his words to be true. A feeling of dread washed over her as she realized that, however weakly, she could sense the presence of Nightmare - he was, indeed, in the world again...and he was approaching. Coming for her.

Ivy considered the man's words. He had known that she'd read the book, known that she was a 'child' of Soul Edge, and known that Nightmare was resurrected. His words, then, were most likely true...

...It was decided, then. She would prepare herself for battle - the battle of her life. She would extract her revenge upon Nightmare, and obtain the knowledge she sought at the same time. And, after finding out the truth about Soul Calibur, she would obtain it for herself, and smite Soul Edge forever!


	6. Face Your Fate

Although his options were infinite, Siegfried was having trouble deciding what to do next. He did not know what could destroy the sword, but there were several ways that he could attempt to find out. After considering a number of options, two seemed the most prevalent - he could concentrate on obtaining knowledge about the sword, or he could seek power great enough to destroy the cursed sword. Siegfried considered both options.

Knowledge would bring him the confident understanding of Soul Edge, potentially with the ability to use it for the purpose of destroying Soul Edge. After all, the ability to know something is a central part of dealing with it. On a more practical level, knowledge can allow one to manipulate and manage things in various ways, and Soul Edge could not be an exception from this universal rule.

Power was a different story altogether. Siegfried knew of no thing powerful enough to destroy the cursed sword. It seemed indestructible. However, he reasoned, even Soul Edge was an object of this world, and thus, it could be destroyed, and things stronger than it could be created. It seemed that if he were to obtain a power even greater than Soul Edge, then the sword could be destroyed.

Seek knowledge to destroy the cursed sword, or seek power to destroy the cursed sword. Both of these options seemed equally sensible to him. Using no form of higher logic was he able to deduce which choice was superior to the other, and which he should decide on.

However, the deciding factor was neither logic nor sensibility - it was weariness. Siegfried had grown very weary of solving his problems by force. For a long time, it had been the only way he knew, but now he was tried of doing things in such a way - he wanted to deviate from that path, to seek a new one, to become a different, better person - not as much as an obligation to his redemption as a personal choice to obtain self-improvement.

And, so, Siegfried chose to seek knowledge to destroy the cursed sword.

In order to know everything there was to know about Soul Edge, he needed to visit someone who was extremely knowledgeable about it. One person whom he knew fit the bill exactly...however, there was one problem. The woman whom he was considering visiting most likely harbored an intense hatred towards him.

As Nightmare, he had assisted her in a way that was trivial to him, but earthshaking to her. The woman was tainted with the energy of Soul Edge, making her a prime potential host for the cursed sword - and so Nightmare had decided to keep her around him as a 'spare' host for Soul Edge. Not only would the woman abhor him for this, but he also had sensed from her intense disgust because of the massacres he had carried out. For more reasons than one, this woman was likely to want to kill him on sight.

And Siegfried was standing on her doorstep.

Isabella Valentine, or Ivy, as she preferred to be called, was a woman of reason - of sensibility. Siegfried was no longer Nightmare. He was no longer the monster who had used her and slaughtered hundreds of innocents for a selfish cause. He was an entirely different person now - his true self. Even more than that, he was seeking to destroy Soul Edge, the very sword that Ivy wanted to destroy, and to redeem himself, for the very sins that Ivy detested him for. It was because of these facts, Siegfried reasoned, that he could avoid conflict. That he and Ivy could get along peacefully, assist one another, and be partners once again - not a bloody partnership held together by black desires, but a friendly union with the purpose of cleansing sins and saving the world from the horrors of Soul Edge.

Using these thoughts to reassure himself, Siegfried told Tira to hide nearby, took a deep breath, and knocked upon the door to the Valentine Mansion. His knocking was answered quickly. Almost too quickly - as if someone had known he was coming, and had been just waiting for him to knock on the door...

"Who's there?" A voice rang out.

Siegfried recognized the voice immediately. It was unmistakably Ivy. ...However...there was something different about it. Something that threw Siegfried off guard. Her voice had sounded...

...Pleasant.

Siegfried had known Ivy as a cold woman, and expected her to be overflowing with hatred. Why would this woman have a pleasant demeanor? Perhaps he was being too critical of her. Perhaps she'd gone through a transformation much as he had. He felt regret for doubting this woman, and spoke.

"Isabella Valentine." He called out in a calm tone of voice. "I am Sir Siegfried Schtauffen. Let me first say that I come in peace - I wish you absolutely no harm, and I desire only a peaceful discussion. What I wish to discuss is Soul Edge. I seek to destroy the cursed blade, and would appreciate you sharing any and all-"

A shutter in the door suddenly flew open. It was located at eye level, and was just tall and wide enough for a person to look through. Two bright blue eyes were on the other side of the shutter, outlined by purple eyeshadow. A few strands of hair hung down over the eyes, the color of which Siegfried recognized as Ivy's. For a few moments, Ivy's gaze locked onto Siegfried's, and the two pairs of eyes simply stared at each other. Then, the bright blue eyes began to run up and down what of Siegfried they could see from the shutter. Judging by the haste in which the shutter had been thrown open, and the fervor with which the eyes studied him, Siegfried figured that Ivy was in a state of disbelief and shock. But, what he saw in those eyes belied that - he saw in her what seemed to be an unshakeable resolve. As if she was facing a test and was committed to passing.

"...Madam Valentine?" Siegfried asked, as politely as he could.

Ivy's eyes suddenly took on a pleasant shape. "Oh, forgive me! I've been so rude! Please, come in!"

The door opened, Siegfried saw Ivy, and his mouth nearly fell open.

Siegfried had only seen Ivy wearing one type of clothing - battle gear. What Ivy wore now was a long, elegant dress. She had the look of a noblewoman, not the warrior he'd seen butcher on the battlefield. The neckline of her dress drooped down low, exposing much of her cleavage. On her face she wore a pleasant smile, as if Siegfried was an old fried. But, in her eyes, he still saw that peculiar look of apprehension.

"So, you've come here seeking knowledge about Soul Edge?" Ivy asked cheerfully.

Siegfried nodded. "Yes. That is why I have come."

"I would be honored to have the pleasure of assisting you! I have amassed quite a lot of information concerning the sword."

Something was wrong. This was all too surreal. It couldn't be this easy.

"...I must...I must make one thing clear." Siegfried said. "I do not wish for there to be any misunderstandings, so I should clarify one important thing."

"Go on." Ivy said.

"...I...was previously Nightmare. I was once known as the Azure Knight." Siegfried admitted. "But, let me explain - I am no longer that vile monster. Nightmare is dead - but there is no guarantee that abominations such as him will not arise again. That is why I have come here - to gain knowledge of Soul Edge to find a way to seal it forever. Please, understand. I was Nightmare, this I admit, but I am him no more."

Ivy's response was nothing like Siegfried had expected. The entire time, she gazed at him with suspicious eyes - as if Ivy suspected that she was speaking to a con artist and was remaining cautious so as to not be fooled. However, the more Siegfried spoke, the more Ivy regarded him with a look that was less suspicious, and more of something that seemed sympathetic. And, then, all at once, that sympathetic look disappeared. For a few moments, the two of them merely stood in silence. Then, Ivy spoke.

"...I must admit, that was an absolutely wonderful performance. If you'd come yesterday, then I would have been fooled. But someone has already ratted you out. You can't trick me."

"...Performance? I assure you, I am not attempting to deceive you. I even just admitted that I was Nightmare! But, I am not him anymore, and-"

"Yes, that's an absolutely genius touch. Pretending that you're not Nightmare anymore. You are far more clever than I gave you credit for. But, as I said, someone pulled the curtain on your act long before you even came here."

"Who - who are you talking about?"

"Nightmare...allow me to show you something."

Ivy raised her hands to her chest. She slipped her fingers into the low neckline of her dress, and then slowly pulled it down even lower. The cleavage of her large breasts seemed to pour right out of her dress. A half an inch more, and she would be exposing her nipples to him. Siegfried was hypnotized in a mixture of confusion and arousal.

Then, Ivy gripped her dress tightly in her hand. She yanked it to the side, ripping it completely off of her body. The dress spiraled in the air between Siegfried and Ivy - but in the split second that Siegfried was able to see Ivy underneath the dress, he saw her clad in her old battle gear, and reaching for a weapon.

A tear was ripped through the center of the dress as Ivy's Snake Sword extended, shooting through it, the tip aimed at Siegfried's neck. However, thinking fast, Siegfried was able to parry the blow with his Zweihänder. He instinctively leapt back, and so did Ivy.

In this moment, he was able to observe her true clothing - white, blue, and golden battle gear, as well as a golden armored clawed gauntlet on her left arm. Her clothing just barely covered the 'forbidden' parts of her body, designed to boost up and expose most of her breasts, as well as showcase everything else. Siegfried had long figured that she dressed this way for the 'distraction' it provided in a fight. If Ivy wanted to prove that women have more power than what lies between their legs, then she was going about it the wrong way.

Returning his mind to business, Siegfried pled with Ivy. "Ivy, I don't know what happened or who came to you, but I am not Nightmare! This is not a trick!"

"Fool me once...shame on you. Fool me twice...shame on me. I'm not allowing you to deceive me again, Nightmare. And I am going to send you to the depths of hell right here and now!"

Siegfried's shoulders sagged. No matter what plea he made, this woman was convinced that he was Nightmare, and now he would have to fight for his life. So much for choosing the route of knowledge to avoid combat.

"Your end is here. DIE!"

Ivy rotated her wrist, causing the whip-sword to spin around. She twirled the hilt of the sword from side to side, creating a zone of danger on either side of her. She walked forward, bringing the spinning blades of the sword closer and closer to Siegfried. If this had been the extent of her tactic, then Siegfried would not have faced much of a challenge - but Ivy had not even begun.

As she reached a proximity to Siegfried that put him in danger, she spun around, gaining ground quickly, and Siegfried had to leap back to avoid being cut. She continued to incorporate unexpected moves into her deadly march toward him. Continuing to rely on the advantage of surprise, she changed her style completely and began to swing the whip-sword parallel to the ground, spinning her body around to keep up with it. Siegfried had trouble evading her blows, but still managed to avoid coming into contact with the snake sword's blades.

Seeing that her technique was bearing no fruit, Ivy switched to an even more aggressive tactic. She twirled her sword above her head, gaining it momentum, and then swung it at Siegfried. Her own momentum carried her forward, and she continued to advance on Siegfried, twirling the blade as she did. She swung it high and low, gyrating her body as needed to avoid cutting herself with her own attack, sometimes jumping and bending around acrobatically in what almost seemed like a dance.

Siegfried dodged and parried what attacks he could, but there were times when he could not and a blade or two of the sword grazed his armor. He managed to avoid any fatal strikes - but his ability to do so was lessening.

Finally, Siegfried's luck ran out. He successfully blocked a blow from Ivy's weapon, but could not evade her leg as she swung herself around along with the sword. Siegfried was knocked down to the ground, and felt a weight pressing down on top of him. When he looked up, he saw that Ivy was sitting atop his chest, with a thigh on either side of his head, and her Ivy Blade in sword-form, pointed at his head. Her thumb was poised on the trigger that extended the blade.

"This is the end!" She hissed.

"GET AWAY FROM MY MASTER!"

Ivy's eyes slid to the left just in time to see a pair of boots slam into her face. The impact knocked her off of Siegfried, and she flew back several feet. Siegfried looked above himself to see Tira, crouched like an animal about to pounce, glaring at Ivy. She jerked her head to the side to look at Siegfried. "Master! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm - I'm alright now, Tira." Siegfried said, climbing to his feet. "Thank you. You've saved my life."

Tira looked up at Siegfried in a way that seemed almost shy, and then she bowed. "You flatter your humble servant with words she does not deserve!"

"...What in _hell_ is _this_?"

The outburst had come from Ivy's direction. She had recovered from Tira's blow, and was rising to her feet. "...Just who is _this_ supposed to be? ...Did she call you '_Master_'? I swear I'll throw up if the Azure Knight has his own personal sex slave!"

"Since when did you become such an assuming person?" Siegfried muttered, for the first time his temper nearly getting the better of him.

"It doesn't matter if I'll have to fight both of you at once. I'll just kill you both!" Ivy said, striking a battle post once again.

"Finally - a fight!" Tira squealed gleefully, raising her own weapon.

Siegfried had mastered patience - in some of its forms. He had the ability and willingness to endure a task would take a long time, even one that is boring. But one form of patience that he had not yet mastered was the ability to not get angry or show anger in situations of human communication when the other is unreasonable. Siegfried had demonstrated impressive patience in putting up with Ivy's irrationality up until this point...

...But he could take no more.

"...ENOUGH!" Siegfried bellowed, and the two women turned to look at him, surprised. "No more fighting! ...Ivy! If you're going to be unreasonable and not even listen to a single God damned word that I say, then I see no reason to remain here any further! ...Tira! Come! We're getting out of this place."

With this, Siegfried placed his Zweihänder behind his back, and began to march towards the door he had entered the mansion from.

"What? But - ...Awwwww..." Tira's resistance was minimal, and she began to reluctantly trudge behind Siegfried.

"...What...?...Wait. Wait!" Ivy called out. "You mean - you didn't come here to kill me?"

Siegfried turned his head, but did not stop walking. "No."

"Hold - hold on. Hold on, stop right there!"

Siegfried stopped walking, and turned around. The look he gave to Ivy was even colder than hers had been.

"So, now you want me to stay, do you? What made you change your mind?"

"If...if you really _were_ Nightmare, and you really _were_ here to kill me...then you wouldn't just turn around and leave at the sign of hostility..." Ivy said.

Siegfried could see that it was paining her to admit that she had been wrong, but respected that she wasn't being stubborn and refusing to admit her mistake. Such humility was worth returning.

"...Very well, then. Does this mean that we will be able to cooperate?"

"...I...I'm not sure. Exactly what kind of cooperation are you proposing?"

Siegfried sighed. Not out of frustration, but because of the exhausting task that now lay before him. "...I'll explain to you why I am here again...this time from the beginning."

---

As he said he would, Siegfried explained to Ivy the reasons why he had come to her. With Ivy now convinced that Siegfried was not Nightmare, the hostilities had cooled down, and Ivy was willing to cooperate with them.

Ivy, Siegfried, and Tira all sat around a table in chairs in Ivy's dining room. Ivy and Siegfried discussed Soul Edge and Soul Calibur, sharing with one another every piece of information they knew. In the end, however, they were disappointed to learn that they knew nothing that the other did not. Ivy had learned every detail about Soul Edge and Soul Calibur from a single book, and Siegfried, in his travels, had heard the story of the two swords told and retold, learning every detail in bits and pieces until he knew everything. Each of them had very little new knowledge to give the other.

"...May I see the book from which you learned so much knowledge?

Ivy's attitude seemed to change. "Oh - no, you can't see it."

Siegfried frowned. "But - why not?"

"Because it's been destroyed." Ivy snapped, as if Siegfried had asked a horribly stupid question.

"What? Why?"

"Last night, someone intruded into my mansion. They were seeking the book. They mentioned that it was a 'mistake' from their past, but I have no way of knowing if they were the author of the book or what. And, about that, they were the same person who warned me that you were coming."

"...They did? What did they say?"

"He told me that Nightmare had been resurrected, was on his way here to kill me, and that if I killed him - you - then all of the knowledge that I seek will be mine. He also warned me that, even though you may appear human, you would still be Nightmare."

"...That explains it, then..." Siegfried mumbled to himself.

"What? Do you know who that man was?"

Siegfried shook his head. "I have no clue. I don't know how he knew I was on my way here, and I don't know why he tried to turn you against me. If he sought to destroy the book, and sought to make us fight one another, then he most likely is attempting to prevent others from obtaining Soul Edge...which may mean that he wants to obtain it for himself. We should consider that man an enemy."

Ivy looked away, ashamed in herself for being used - yet again. Sensing that tension was growing between them, Siegfried decided to ask a question.

"Madam Valentine - what exactly do you plan to do?"

"I plan to obtain Soul Calibur, and use it to annihilate Soul Edge completely."

Tira giggled.

"What's so funny?" Ivy snapped.

"Hmph! If you're going to be that way, then I won't tell you."

"If you're going to back down, then don't open your mouth in the first place!"

"Hey, you've got it wrong! I just don't think you deserve to know what Master has!"

"...What _does_ he have?"

Tira realized that her tongue had become loose, and she clasped her hands over her mouth and looked at Siegfried fearfully. Siegfried smiled gently at her in return.

"I intend on keeping it a secret from those who would wish to claim it only for malevolent purposes - but, as long as Ivy's goals are the same as ours..."

Siegfried removed his satchel, and placed it on the floor in between him and Ivy. He untied the knot that kept the bag closed, and slowly pulled it down, revealing its contents.

Ivy nearly leapt. "This...! This is...!"

"Yes." Siegfried confirmed. "Soul Edge and Soul Calibur."

Ivy leaned forward and bent to the left and right, observing the Soul Embrace from different angles. "...How ironic. " She mumbled. "History truly does repeat itself. Twice now, you've held the legendary sword that I've sought, without me even knowing about it." She looked closer. "...What exactly...why are they..."

"The two swords have ensnared one another. Each one is keeping the other in check; they are in a frozen state. Neither one has any real power at the moment." Siegfried said, answering the question that Ivy had not been able to put into words.

"...I see...So - so, this means, that Soul Calibur cannot be used to destroy Soul Edge?"

"Not in its current state."

"...If we were able to remove Soul Edge from Soul Calibur, what then?"

"I am not sure." Siegfried admitted. "When I tried to destroy Soul Edge with Soul Calibur, the holy sword was unable to do so. It may simply be incapable of destroying the sword...only capable of keeping it in check, as it was forged to."

Ivy's shoulder's sagged, and she looked down. She had the look of a very, very disappointed person - but not of a defeated one.

"In that case, what shall we do?"

"That is what I came here to find out..." Siegfried replied.

Ivy crossed her legs and arms and looked to the side, obviously frustrated. Then, it seemed as if a thought had occurred to her.

"...How do I know that you are really not Nightmare, and that your true intentions were not to come here to learn how to destroy Soul Calibur?"

"This again?" Siegfried sighed, and rested his head in his hand.

"Hey, Master is telling the truth!" Tira suddenly said. "I've known him for a while now, and he's not lying about this!"

"Ah, yes, and then we have..." Ivy gestured at Tira. "..._This_. Who exactly _are_ you, anyway?"

"I'm Tira! I am Master's slave."

Ivy's eyes turned to Siegfried's for a clarification of Tira's lacking explanation.

"Tira is a traveling companion. The reasons for which she joined me are...complicated, but she is a useful ally...as she proved today."

Tira beamed proudly, and Ivy looked to the side, not pleased to be reminded of her earlier defeat.

"...Which brings me to another issue that I wanted to address. Ivy...I was considering asking you to join us."

Of all the shocking things Siegfried had revealed to her that day, it was this proposition that garnered the most significant response. Ivy looked shocked that Siegfried would suggest a partnership.

"You and I both know firsthand the horrors of Soul Edge. We were both used by it. We both wish to destroy the sword completely. We both possess a thorough knowledge of the sword. Working together, we could only achieve our shared goal quicker and more efficiently."

Ivy expressed her feelings by shaking her head from side to side and laughing. "Did you...did you really just suggest a partnership? Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"That had nothing to do with me. The person - the _monster_ whom used you was not I. It was Soul Edge. Does it not seem fitting to you that you would join with someone who was used by Soul Edge in order to extract your revenge upon it for using you?"

"_Fitting_? More like _ironic_." Ivy scoffed. "Although a union may be efficient, I have qualms about joining with..._you_."

"But, it wasn't..." Siegfried's voice trailed off. If he continued to argue, he and Ivy would merely be repeating their points over and over again.

"Sorry." Ivy said.

"No! Don't decide so quickly. This could be a major help in us both reaching our mutual goal!"

"It would be too awkward, Nightmare or not. I simply don't want to join up again."

Siegfried looked down, disappointed and defeated. He took a deep breath, and gave a long sigh.

"...Well...I suppose that there is no reason to remain here."

Ivy did not seem affected by this comment at first, but then her eyes grew wide. "...Wait! Are you going to take the swords with you?"

"Of course."

"No - I want them. I want to keep them here. I know I can find a way to destroy Soul Edge using alchemy and magic."

"Don't do such a thing! It'd be foolish. You don't know how to manipulate Soul Edge. You could do something horrible. You could destroy Soul Calibur and make Soul Edge even more powerful than it already is. It could seduce you and possess you. The possibilities for things that could go wrong are endless!"

"You're saying a lot when I haven't even gotten the chance to try anything yet!"

"Better safe than sorry; I don't want to risk another Nightmare. Tampering with Soul Edge leads to horrible things, no matter what your intentions are."

"You...you...!"

Ivy's hand flew to the hilt of her Snake Sword. In a second, Siegfried's hands were clasped around Requiem's hilt, and Tira grasped her own weapon. The three of them stood as still as statues, each keeping an eye on the other. The situation was a bomb waiting to go off that could result in deaths - even in another Soul Edge catastrophe.

Eventually, Ivy's posture relaxed. She took her hand off of her Ivy Blade, and Siegfried and Tira let go of their weapons, as well.

Ivy practically fell back onto her seat, and covered her face in her hands. "This is _stupid_!" she hissed. "Soul Edge _and_ Calibur are right there, and I can't do a damned thing with either of them!"

"That is what our quest is about." Siegfried said softly. "Finding a way to solve the problem. We weren't able to make any headway here, but there are other options. There always are. We'll think of something. We'll go somewhere else. We'll find a way. I won't rest until I do."

Siegfried saw Ivy separate her fingers just enough for her to peak through them. She looked up at Siegfried, in a way that almost struck him as shy. And then she looked down again.

"My proposition still stands. I will give you as much time as you need to think about it." Siegfried turned his gaze toward a window. "...The sun is setting, and we are all very tense and weary. We should rest before doing anything else."

Siegfried saw Ivy slowly bob her head in agreement.

"Hey, Ivy, can we stay here?"

These words had come from Tira. Siegfried and Ivy both looked at her in surprise.

"Um, I'm sorry if it's rude to ask, but, I mean, we need a place to stay, and surely this place has got a few extra bedrooms. You're the only one who lives here, right? Wouldn't you be letting this place just go to waste if you didn't let some other people use it, too?"

Ivy stared blankly at Tira for a moment, and then her head rolled back and she laughed heartily. "...Ha ha ha! Hm...Tira, was it? Perhaps you're right...it does get lonely. Maybe it is time that the Valentine Mansion had guests. You may stay here for the night. And, Night...I mean, Sir Schtauffen. I will consider your proposition."

Siegfried's mood improved greatly. "My utmost gratitude, Madam Valentine!" Siegfried said, performing a deep bow. "And, you may call me Siegfried."

Ivy watched Siegfried doubtfully, at first believing that his sudden formality was meant mockingly - but then decided that he was being sincere. She chuckled. "...And, you may call me Ivy."

Unbeknownst to both of them, Tira watched their interactions with a disapproving eye.

---

There were a few paintings in the room that Ivy had allowed Siegfried to use. Siegfried was no enthusiast of paintings, but they were of extraordinary quality, and he decided to inspect them.

The first painting featured a young Ivy, looking around the age of 14 or 15, standing by her parents, who were seated next to one another. Ivy wore her hair cropped in a nature that was similar to her current one, and a long pink dress. Even at that time, she was quite 'developed' for her age, and was wearing low-cut dresses that seemed to stop just barely above her nipples. The expression on her face was a mixture of curiosity and shyness - a look that embodied the emotions of all girls that age. She rested a hand gently on the shoulder of her father. He was dressed like the rich and famous noble he was, and was holding the hand of a woman, his wife, also dressed like a noble, but dressed much more formally than the young Ivy. Siegfried was enraptured by this image of Ivy, and simply could not stop staring at her - not because of her beauty, but because it was so different to see Ivy as an innocent young girl, rather than the sexy vixen or icy warrior that she was today. As he gazed at the painting, he almost an emotion akin to regret - regret that Ivy had turned from an innocent girl into the cold woman she was today. If only everyone could remain a child; pure and innocent and ignorant of the horrible truths of the world forever...

Aware that the painting was making him feel far too old, Siegfried moved on to the next one. It was a portrait of Count Valentine - but his appearance was far different than it had been in the other picture. He held his hands in his lap in an impatient way, but it was hard to read his expression, because his face was distorted. Only one eye was visible - the left side of his face looked like it had been smudged. At first, Siegfried wondered if the painting had been damaged - but there was what looked like a scar on the left side of the Count's forehead, and the left half of his mouth seemed like it had been melted off. Siegfried concluded that Count Valentine must have been in an accident that left him horribly misshapen. He wore what looked like a black laboratory coat - the accident must have had to do with alchemy.

The last picture in the room was one of Ivy - this time, as an adult. The picture seemed to stress this fact by putting emphasis on Ivy's womanly features - her pouty, seductive lips, and extraordinary amount of cleavage. In this painting, she was wearing the purple dress she had worn when she had 'greeted' Siegfried earlier. She was leaning against a dresser, and resting her arms on it, which lifted up her breasts, accentuating them even more. She really did have amazing breasts. It was a shame that the dress was in shambles now, never to be worn again...Then again, Ivy had even sexier wear in her wardrobe, so it wasn't a loss.

The paintings chronicled the effects of Soul Edge on a pleasant family - it twisted and distorted the Count in both his mind and appearance, and turned an innocent girl into a warrior as seductive as she was deadly. It only further convinced him that the sword needed to be stopped. Maybe Soul Edge could not, in fact, but destroyed by Soul Calibur - but a way had to be found.


	7. Ultimatum

For the first time in a while, Siegfried was lonely. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to being by himself - but, over the short amount of time that he'd known Tira, he'd grown accustomed to her company. Especially at night - _especially_ at night. This was the first night that he wouldn't be spending with Tira since the day he had met her; Ivy had given them separate rooms. Siegfried had not protested, seeing as drawing attention to the relationship between him and Tira might upset Ivy. He had decided that he would just have to deal with it. There would be other nights.

And, so, Siegfried slipped into slumber, while Tira, even though she was alone as well, did not sleep. Although she had her own room and warm, comfortable bed, she was not in it. She was perched on a tree outside of the mansion, looking into her Master's bedchambers. The reason was a mixture of her fondness for him and her desire to make sure that he was safe in this new environment with this strange woman in it. Her vantage point allowed her a view into the hallway that led to Siegfried's room, as well, and she kept a close eye on it, watching for that woman. When she became too tired, she would let herself fall asleep, but until then, she kept watch for her Master. _Maybe, one day, I'll tell him about all the times I pretended to be asleep, but was really keeping a watch over him, and he'll be proud of me, and he'll praise me. Master, I'm trying hard. I really am._

It was a few seconds before Tira would have let herself drift off to sleep when she noticed movement in the hallways. It was that woman. She was creeping, quietly, stealthily, towards Siegfried's bedroom.

Instinctively, all sorts of different ways to kill her began to appear in Tira's mind - she could fly through the window this way, or that way, and dispose of the woman using this technique, or that one...however, she soon remembered that she was to remain committed to not killing. She heaved a heavy sigh, and then put her mind to work trying to think up an alternative. The first idea that came to her mind was impractical, but to her, anything that didn't involve killing was impractical, so she didn't know the difference. She'd simply let the woman know of her presence. That should be enough to ward her off.

So, Tira sprang from the tree branch to the windowsill, landing as safely and soundlessly as if she had been a tiny bird. Once there, she leaned against the wall and stood with her legs crossed, a sleepy expression on her face. As nonchalant as this made her look, it was mainly caused by how tired she felt.

She tapped on the window to let the woman know of her presence. The woman jerked her head to the right to see Tira, and the two of them stared at each other silently. Tira slowly shook her head from side to side to warn her, "No."

Strangely, the woman smirked. When Tira saw those purple lips curl into a smile, she became agitated. She didn't like the woman looking as if she knew everything. The woman simply turned and walked away from the door. Shrugging, Tira leapt back onto her perch, and remained there for the rest of the night. She fell asleep, and the woman did not return that night.

---

It was morning. Siegfried left his chambers, but did not know exactly what he should do. Currently, he was merely waiting to hear word from Ivy - but did not know when or even _if_ he should approach her, afraid of doing something wrong and endangering their proposed partnership.

Around noon, he figured that she'd had adequate time to think about the matter, and decided to finally discuss it with her. He and Tira found her standing in the middle of her living room, facing the door they had entered the room in, as if she had been waiting for them.

"...Ivy." He said, the awkwardness of the situation leaving him clueless of a proper way to greet her.

"Siegfried." She responded plainly, but not coldly.

"...I slept well last night. I would like to thank you again for letting us use your mansion."

"Oh, it was no problem at all."

"I...suppose I shall simply get to the point. Have you decided whether or not you will join us, yet?"

"I have decided that I will join you - but only under one condition."

The already thick tension in the room elevated to astronomical levels.

"...Yes? What is it?"

"I do not see a purpose in embarking on a journey if the solution could have been determined in my lab the entire time. I understand your apprehensions about me doing experiments on the Soul Embrace, but until I know for sure that no solution can be reached here, I think it unwise to leave."

Siegfried closed his eyes in thought. As he did so, Ivy smiled slightly, and looked in Tira's direction.

And Tira was furious.

Ivy had determined the exact thing that would drive Tira out of her mind. Tira had spent sleepless nights guarding her Master and Soul Embrace, and even successfully prevented Ivy from obtaining it last night. And, now, Ivy had given Siegfried an ultimatum - to hand over Soul Embrace, or no partnership. Ivy had felt that doing this would jab Tira brutally. And she was not wrong.

Tira said nothing - in fact, she did nothing. She did not even change her facial expression. However, her face grew hotter and redder as she seethed with anger.

"...How long would it take?" Siegfried finally asked, breaking up the unspoken war between the two women.

"Oh. Who knows. I may be unable to do anything with it after exhausting every option, and it could all be over in a matter of hours. Or, one discovery may lead to another, to another, to another, and so on for weeks. Months, even."

"We don't have weeks or months." Siegfried said. "There are those who seek me, and seek Soul Edge. There are those who possess the ability to sense the exact location of the Soul Embrace. They are always following me. They are closing in on us as we speak. We don't know when they'll arrive. But, if we stay in one spot for more than a day or two, we will be found, and there will be fighting. That is a guarantee."

"Hmph. It may be, but that fact doesn't change how long it will take."

"...But it does tell how long you will have." Siegfried replied coldly. "...One day. You have Soul Embrace for one day." Siegfried carried it with him at the moment, as he almost always did. He slung it off of his shoulder, and held it out to Ivy. "You'd better work fast, alchemist."

---

The remainder of the day was spent in Ivy's laboratory. It was a fascinating place, the like of which Siegfried and Tira had never seen. Occasionally, they inquired as to what a certain instrument was, or what it did, but they could rarely comprehend Ivy's replies. They did, however, insist on understanding what Ivy was doing when she preformed experiments of alchemy and magic on the sword, and she explained well. When Siegfried dubbed the experiment to be safe, it commenced.

And always without results.

Half to their relief, because there were no negative results, and half to their dismay, because there were no positive results, every single experiment that Ivy preformed on the Soul Embrace failed to produce any results whatsoever, other than that the swords were immune to it.

Ivy cursed, and then muttered to herself explanations, talk of matter and energy and chemicals and elements and compounds and other things that neither Siegfried or Tira had ever heard of before.

Ivy had only needed half a day to discover that every instrument in her lab and every procedure she knew were ineffective on the Soul Embrace.

Siegfried and Tira, at first intrigued, but now nearly bored, could also tell that Ivy was getting nowhere, but neither wanted to tell her so. In the end, she admitted it herself in the form of cursing and slamming her fists against a table.

"...I can't believe it. Something with this sort of structure shouldn't even be capable of existing..." Ivy muttered to herself.

"...Ivy." Siegfried said calmly. "I say this with only our interests and safety in mind - we are endangered here, and should leave now." He was careful to word himself without saying anything potentially offensive. "And, you...will you join us?"

For a few moments, Ivy didn't give any indication that she had heard anything that Siegfried had recently said. Then, she spoke. "...Well, damned if I'm going to leave the fate of the world in the hands of a pacifist knight and Featherbrain over there. ...Oh, hell, I'm coming with you."

"I am very grateful." Siegfried replied sincerely, not affected by Ivy's other comments. Tira, on the other hand, _was_ affected, but knew that infighting wasn't going to help at all, and as hard as she found it to do so, kept quiet.

"...So, where do we go?"

"...Well, although I am certain that any number of options is open to us, an option that has stood out to me for some time now is to search for a power greater than Soul Edge, powerful enough to destroy it."

"What? Nothing I tried here today was powerful enough. What makes you think that we could find a weapon powerful enough to destroy the sword?"

"If something as seemingly indestructible as the Soul Embrace could exist, then there must be other weapons or powers in existence with equal or greater strength. We should seek one such weapon."

"...Suggesting we use brute force, eh? It figures..."

Siegfried was offended, seeing as he had initially chosen the pursuit of knowledge over 'brute force,' but did not argue.

"Anyway, where are we going to find a weapon or power strong enough to destroy Soul Edge?"

"I would not know. However, I think I may know who _would_ know. Warriors of exceptional strength. They would wield powerful weapons themselves, and must be overflowing with knowledge of strength and how to acquire it."

"And where are we going to find warriors like that?"

"In ancient Rome, there was a sport where men bet their lives in combat. I learned that, on a certain lakeshore, exists a secret arena constructed to recreate that aspect of the Roman world. It is said that, in this arena, the strongest of warriors gather to risk their lives at this sport."

"How barbaric." Ivy muttered. "So, you're proposing that we travel to a secret arena to try to learn from someone of a weapon powerful enough to destroy Soul Edge?"

"It is not our only choice, but our options are scarce, and I believe that it is a worthy pursuit." Siegfried chose the perfect way to conclude his argument: "...I would gladly be willing to listen to any propositions that you might have."

Ivy had none.


	8. The Trembling Earth

"Nathan. Nathan, look at it. Isn't it a beauty?"

Nathaniel William Adams did not look. He had been avoiding the sight of it. It scared him. It wasn't just its scary appearance; it was its very _existence_ that was frightening to him. Hearing others talk about it, or even just the thought of it chilled him to the bone. Nathaniel couldn't explain why he was so terrified of it, not to others, not even to himself. And not being able to explain something only makes humans more scared of it.

"This is it. This is what daddy has been looking for, all these years. Go on, take a look."

Nathaniel finally looked up.

"Soul Edge."

The weapon known as 'Soul Edge' was actually two swords - it was a mystery why Soul Edge was two blades, and not one, since all of the legends described the weapon as a single blade. Still, no one gazing upon the two swords could have a doubt in their mind that they were Soul Edge.

The two swords were large, and one would have to be of considerable strength to wield both at the same time. Nathaniel's father held both at once, but he could never wield them as weapons. He lacked the strength, and, besides that, he was no warrior. He ran a curio store specializing in rare weapons, and was always taken with strange antiquities - the exact reason that the prospect of acquiring Soul Edge had been so mesmerizing to him.

One of the swords was wavy, and one was straight, but their morbid design was similar, and there was no doubt that they were sister swords. Or, some said, brother and sister - at some point, someone had proposed the idea of one sword being the male of the pair, and the other being the female, and the idea stuck. Collectors of antique items did tend to have rather romantic minds and favor such ideas.

"...Soul Edge, the hero's sword..."

Nathaniel's father muttered such thoughts to himself as he examined every inch of the swords, over and over. The more Nathaniel observed, the more it seemed like his father had some kind of sick obsession with it. The look in his eyes as he examined it seemed...hungry.

Nathaniel didn't think that there was anything 'heroic' about the sword, either. It had an impressive appearance, but it looked like the type of weapon that a villain would wield, not a hero.

Still, there was one thing that was good about Soul Edge. Concentrating on it took Nathaniel's mind off of the storm. The storm that buffeted the ship had scared the young boy nearly to the point of tears. His father didn't even seem to notice the rocking of the ship and the loud thunderclaps. He just stayed in his cabin, looking at Soul Edge, inviting Nathaniel for a look, and then looking some more...

Just as Nathaniel was beginning to have enough of the depressing spectacle of his father's obsession, he heard a loud sound. He noticed it because it was as loud as the thunderclaps that he'd been hearing all night, but it didn't sound like thunder. It sounded somewhat like an explosion.

CRUNCH 

And now, a much louder sound, on the ship itself. It sounded like wood was splintering violently, like something was ripping the ship apart. The ship rocked at the same time as the sound, and Nathaniel was tossed from the bed he was sitting upon, against a wall of the cabin.

It didn't take very long at all for crew of the ship to cry out:

"Pirates!"

Nathaniel realized what the loud sound had been in a moment. Canon fire. And the ship had taken a direct hit.

"...No, no! This can't be!" Nathaniel's father cried. And, indeed, it shouldn't have been. He had taken a very long route, arcing halfway out into the Atlantic Ocean, just to avoid the waters that were scoured by pirates. How could it be? How could pirates have found them? No pirates sailed the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, because nobody else sailed there. It was almost as if those pirates knew exactly where they'd be. As if they were following them. It was as if...

"...Vercci."

Nathaniel's father spat the name like a curse, and he would, indeed, have cursed Vercci, if his young son's ears had not been so nearby. Vercci, the Italian "Merchant of Death," had enormous wealth was almost as famous as his legendary greed - he had, on many occasions, ordered assassinations just to obtain some item or other. It was a well-known fact that Vercci and the dreaded pirate Cervantes de Leon had a loose business partnership - he was often the one who carried out Vercci's assassinations, for a cut of the bounty. There was no doubt at all that Cervantes had tracked Soul Edge to the auction, and had followed him out to sea with the intention of eventually ambushing him, and-

Another loud explosion that rocked ship and caused the man and his son to slam against the walls of the cabin.

"Nathan! Go find your mother!"

Nathaniel's father ran past his confused son to the ship's storeroom to hide Soul Edge.

Nathaniel ran from the cabin to find his mother, who found him first.

"Nathan! Where is your father?"

He tried to speak, but his words came out as a whimper. He pointed in the direction of the storeroom.

His mother began to run off to the storeroom, herself. Before he left her son, she cried, "Nathan, stay here until we return!"

But they never did.

That was the last time that Nathaniel saw his parents.

Nathan does not have a clear memory of the events that occurred next. There were a lot more explosions, and pieces of the ship were ripped off by cannon fire until, from where he stood in the middle of the ship, Nathan could see out of the ship. He was thrown to and fro, and eventually he was in the water - the freezing water. His arms and legs flailed wildly, and his hand hit something - wood. He grabbed onto it, and hoisted himself aboard it. It was only slightly bigger than he was, but it kept him afloat. Everything after that point was a mixture of thunder, explosions, screaming, violent rocking, cold air and water blasting his face, and flashes of gruesome scenes as lightning periodically provided enough light for Nathan to see the horrifying sight of pirates boarding the ship and killing everyone aboard it, but the scene was smaller every time he beheld it, for he was drifting away, drifting further and further away...

---

The ultimate form of stimulation has long been sought by men of wealth and power who have already exhausted all other luxuries the world has to offer. The Lakeside Coliseum is a secret arena built in search of that ultimate stimulation.

The rules are simple. After signing up, the participants play each other in individual matches. After each match, the loser is dropped from the tournament, and the winner advances to play a new opponent in the next round. The rounds of the tournament lead up to the 'finals', in which the only remaining participants play, and the winner of the finals is the winner of the entire tournament. The winner of a match receives money as a reward, and the amount of the reward rises with each consecutive win.

At the end of a fight, when one participant acknowledges defeat by raising a finger, the audience could decide whether or not the loser should live or die. The audience pointed their thumbs upwards if they wanted the loser to live, and downwards if they wanted him to die. A participant did not have to die after every match - if the audience felt that both fighters fought admirably, they would likely want both to live and fight for their amusement in the future.

Warriors come here for various reasons - for the money, for the thrill of battle, or because fighting is the only life they know, and they must constantly endanger their own lives in order to give themselves a reason to fight for their own existence.

But, whatever their reason or reasons for participating in the Coliseum, each warrior is a human being. A person who was born, lived a childhood, had memories of both good and bad times in the past, and has hopes and dreams for the future. Each person has knowledge in their mind that they have gathered over their lifetime, knowledge of many things, but, dominantly, knowledge battles and fighting styles and weapons.

And it was this very sort knowledge that Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy sought as they entered this realm of fighting...

---

Nathaniel awoke on a beach. He was alone.

The first thing that the young boy did, of course, was to call out for his mother and father and search for them. But he did not find them.

He was hungry. But there was no one around to feed him. Slowly, he realized that he would have to feed himself.

But, where to find food? He would just have to go looking for it.

There were some berry bushes a short distance away. Nathaniel slowly stood up, and began walking towards them.

This was the day that Nathaniel began to change.

---

The Lakeside Coliseum was true to its name. The landscape that surrounded the arena was pleasant and peaceful - the surface of the lake itself was almost as still as a rock as it reflected moonlight onto the gently swaying trees of the nearby forest. The only time it stirred was when small boats ferried spectators to and from the arena, and there was a dock next to the arena for this purpose.

The overall appearance of the arena was impressive, but not over-decorated. The ring where the battles took place was not actually circular, as the word 'ring' would imply, but shaped like a square. It was surrounded by water. One of the conditions for losing was falling out of the ring and landing in the water.

However, despite the calm and inviting appearance of the arena, things were not as easy as Siegfried thought that they would be. As it turned out, one could not simply walk into this secret arena merely to go from warrior to warrior asking them about legendary weapons. You were a paying spectator, you were a warrior, or you were ushered out.

Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy refused to be spectators, and refused to be ushered out.

They signed themselves up - under alternate names, of course. Siegfried was a hunted man, and Ivy wasn't completely unheard of. Tira had much less to worry about, but chose an alias, anyway.

The early battles were easy for them, and the later battles simply were more challenging, but nothing too hard for the trio. Years of nearly perpetual fighting as Nightmare had honed Siegfried's skills to a point at which there was scarcely an opponent that could challenge him. Few warriors knew exactly what to do when Ivy's blade transformed back and forth from a sword to a whip, and the confusion alone allowed her easy victories. Killing was something Tira was most comfortable doing than anything else, except, perhaps, laying in her Master's embrace, and fighting was little different. Siegfried had given her strict orders not to kill anyone, even if the audience demanded it. It made Tira slightly unpopular, not to mention made her feel as if she had an itch that she could not scratch when her weapon hovered less than an inch from her opponent's neck, but she obeyed him. As a result of meetings like the one with the swordsman in the burning inn, Siegfried had mastered ways to quickly take an enemy down without doing any permanent harm to anything other than his ego, and his matches were, to the disappointment of his audiences, short. Ivy, on the other hand, did not care what Siegfried or the audience commanded her to do. Her opponents seemed to usually end up maimed, or even killed. Although she put on an innocent look and said it was an accident when Siegfried confronted her about the deaths, it was obviously that she had done it on purpose - and had enjoyed it.

Between battles, sometimes even with defeated opponents, the trio always inquired to everyone they could about powerful weapons - the must powerful weapon they had ever heard of, the weapon with the must destructive force. Some warriors mentioned legendary weapons, but none that sounded like they could destroy Soul Edge. Others simply recommended gunpowder if you wanted destructive force. However, as an experiment in Ivy's lab had proven, Soul Edge was invulnerable to any form of combustion, no matter what the intensity of the explosion.

---

Nathaniel was no longer a young boy; he was a man now. But he was also a completely different person. Since he'd washed ashore in this strange land, every day had been a struggle to live. He was forced to live off the land to survive. He discarded his former habits, and even his former language. He had all but completely forgotten his past life. No one who saw him now would imagine him as the son of a merchant living an idyllic childhood, as he once had been. Anyone who saw him now would think that he was a savage.

It was at this point that he first came upon other living people, a tribe native to the area. However, they would not approach Nathaniel. Nathaniel had to battle wild beasts from time to time in order to protect himself. After he had killed them, he wore their fur out of respect for them. He had grown in size and strength from these battles, as well, and, as a result of his giant muscles and the fur he wore his appearance was that of a monster. The tribal natives referred to him with names such as the "White Giant," and "He who makes the Earth tremble." Nathaniel did not understand their words at first, although he came to learn their language, but from the beginning, he disliked the words they used to refer to him. Only one of their names for him struck him as appropriate, and therefore acceptable.

Rock.

---

Eventually, the three of them had reached the finals. There were only six warriors left. These were the strongest in the tournament. Two of them were unremarkable. They had already been questioned, and the trio knew their weak points after observing their matches. However, the third was an enigma. He was a hulking giant of a man, and wore the skin of an animal that looked like a mix between a polar bear and a saber-toothed tiger. He carried with him a giant mace with several spikes protruding from it. None of the trio had spoken to him yet. He kept to himself - sitting cross-legged in a corner, his hands on his knees, looking down with his eyes closed. No one wanted to walk over to a man with his appearance and disturb him from what seemed like a deep meditation. For some reason, he reminded Siegfried and Ivy of Astaroth, but they did not know why - and were not interested in thinking about that golem.

It was announced that Siegfried and Ivy were to do battle with the two opponents who wouldn't pose a challenge...

...And that Tira was to do battle with the giant.

---

Eventually, Rock did have one friend. A child had been orphaned by tribal warfare. His name was 'Bangoo'. Rock felt sympathetic to the boy, because he had once been in the same situation - an orphan in a strange land - and became the boy's guardian. Rock cared for him greatly.

From the natives, Rock re-learnt about the "people across the ocean." Faded memories of his parents slowly began to return to him...and these memories triggered memories of something else -

Soul Edge.

The words "Soul Edge" were closely connected with memories of his parents. It was a name he had heard often as a child. At bedtime, mealtime, while being held in someone's arms...a hazy image formed in his mind.

_...If I could find Soul Edge...perhaps I might recover my own past. I might even find my parents!_

With the giant ax he used for a weapon in hand, Rock set out for the land across the sea.

This was Rock's first adventure.

---

Rock was sitting in the middle of the ring. Sitting - and doing so in the position that he had been observed in all day. He seemed to be very fond of the cross-legged position, with his eyes closed in thought, and his hands resting on either knee.

Tira entered the ring, and stood holding her ring blade behind her back. Rock, like many of Tira's opponents that day, did not know how to face such a weapon or stance, but he did not let it phase him.

Rock simply gripped his mace, which lay beside him, stood up, lunged forward, and swung the mace over and over again. He continually attacked, never letting up, and simply swinging the giant mace around aggressively without stopping. Although it never connected with the lithe Tira, who dodged every swing, sometimes it connected with the floor of the ring, smashing the ground, and causing the floor to crack or break up from the mighty blows.

He actually had a wide variety of ways to swing the mace, such as spinning the mace around by gyrating his wrist. However, none of his attacks landed on Tira - who, by this time, was tired of perpetually dodging.

The match was about to take a drastic turn.

---

Rock crossed the great ocean to find his past. With no memories of his parents, he searched for Soul Edge, what he believed to be the only possible cure, and continued his quest. Eventually, he came to realize something. In searching for the family of his past, he had left behind his only other family - his true family - Bangoo. By leaving Bangoo alone, he was subjecting Bangoo to the same loneliness that he had suffered as a child.

After due consideration, Rock chose not past, but present. His quest was over. Rock returned to the west. As he set sail, he saw the light rising into the sky above the continent, as if it were bidding farewell to him. When the light faded, the earth was hidden by the darkness of night.

Rock returned to Bangoo nearly a year after he left him. He knew he had made the right choice in returning, because he never wanted Bangoo to experience the loneliness of not having a family. He decided to stay with Bangoo until Bangoo had become a fully independent man.

---

Tira gripped her blade and swung around it in a wide circle, ending the swing by thrusting it forward like it was a sword, and this was the first time in this match that Rock was forced to use his mace to defend instead of attack She spun it around her body, twirled it around on her wrist, and passed it from hand to hand, creating a vortex around herself that served as both a shield and as a zone of danger. Then, she leapt forward and spun around in circles, spinning her blade as she went, becoming a deadly whirlwind. The tables had turned, and now Rock was the one perpetually blocking and dodging.

She placed the blade over her own head and brang it down around her body. In this new 'stance', she charged at Rock, twirling around and gyrating the blade in many directions around herself, turning her own body into the center of her attack. She spun the blade off of her body and onto her arms and then back onto her body again quite frequently, disorienting Rock. Eventually, she had moved herself past Rock's mace. She jumped onto him, forcing him down to the ground, sitting on top of his chest, swung the ring blade up, and then brought it down in an arc at Rock's throat...

---

Rock's life had been very peaceful, but one day, a rumor that mysterious lizard-like humanoids were wandering the land disturbed Rock's peaceful life. Rock tried to avoid the matter, and focus on keeping peace with Bangoo, but, one moonless night, the monsters suddenly attacked Rock without warning. Rock mowed down every single lizardman with his giant battle-axe. Once aware that their proud hard scales were powerless against Rock's axe, the lizardmen disappeared into the darkness. As the silence grew, Rock returned home - only to find his home destroyed, and Bangoo missing! When the lizardmen realized that they could never capture Rock, they kidnapped Bangoo to lure him into a trap! Even though he knew it was a trap, he couldn't avoid losing Bangoo. He left on another quest, following the trail of the lizardmen, but, once he reached the European continent, he lost their trail. Rock now wandered Europe trying to find Bangoo.

This was Rock's second adventure.

---

Tira's ring blade completed its arc, cutting a slice in Rock's neck. It was only a quarter of an inch long, but it went deep. This width of the cut caused the blood to exit the neck not as liquid, but as a fine red mist; Tira could even hear the satisfying sound of a slight hiss. That hiss was the sound of Rock's life escaping his body. Soon, he would not even have enough life left in him to keep his eyes open. Tira lifted her hand and placed it in the path of the spray, and smiled with glee as her hand was immediately bathed in red-

No.

A quarter of an inch is not the size of the slice that Tira's weapon cut into Rock's neck, but the distance that Tira's weapon stopped above Rock's neck. Rock was defeated, but he would live yet. He raised his finger, and the crowd cheered. Tira got off of him and walked away. She did not look to see the response of the crowd; she'd let him live no matter what they wanted.

_Let_ him live.

The thought lingered in Tira's mind.

_Let_ him live.

The power to hold someone's life in the palm of your hand, poke a hole in them, and watch their life slowly seep out of them, but, instead of killing them, _lett_ing them live. They'd continue to live only because Tira _let_ them do so.

They'd practically _belong_ to her.

Tira smirked at these thoughts. They were the most delicious thoughts that she'd had in quite a while...

...but she quickly suppressed them.

_What if Master could hear those thoughts? He'd think I was a bad person._

Tira's shoulders sagged. It had been so nice...so nice...for a moment. But, it could not be.

_I'm trying my best, Master, really, I am._

---

After many bloody battles, Rock successfully rescued Bangoo. The cost of that battle was his trusty axe, but he did not regret it for a moment.

The two of them were once again free, but they did not immediately return to the New World. Rock decided that, if Bangoo was not strong enough to defend himself, then he should not return home until he is strong enough to do so.

The two of them headed north along the coast and settled in northern Europe. There, they were greeted by fierce winters and a different environment from that of the New World.

Rock had long believed that, "Nature is the best teacher. It holds limitless knowledge, and there is always something one can learn if one approaches in good faith. And, if necessary, nature will grant harsh, but accurate, lessons." Rock wished for Bangoo to learn and strength himself amidst Mother Nature's world.

And so Bangoo's training began. Bangoo's young body could not always handle the frigid cold or fierce storms, but during those times, Rock gently supported Bangoo. Occasionally interacting with hunters and fishermen, the two of them continued their life in this land.

"Some things are strong and reliable; others, fragile and dangerous. An important part of life is learning to recognize the true nature of things that cannot be observed through sight alone."

During one stormy winter night, Bangoo fell through some thin ice while crossing the snowy valley. He fell into a crevice, and spent the night with no way to warm himself. When the sun rose and he was rescued by Rock, he was exhausted. Acting on a gut feeling, Rock asked Bangoo,

"Bangoo, are you afraid of nature?"

Bangoo replied,

"I respect nature too much to hate it. And if I cannot hate something, then I fear it."

Upon hearing this answer, Rock felt that Bangoo had reached a high level of maturity, and was ready to become a man. For his rite of passage into manhood, Bangoo chose an act that Rock had accomplished before - crossing the sea on his own. Rock saw Bangoo off on his solitary journey with a multitude of emotions in his heart. Bangoo had become like his own son.

Alone once more, Rock closed his eyes in thought. Bangoo was returning to the land of his birth. But, as for Rock...Rock's true homeland was not the wide plains across the great ocean before him. It was somewhere in this land upon which he now tread. The only clue he had connecting him to his parents was Soul Edge. He had traveled before in search of its whereabouts, but had never successfully reached it.

He stopped his thoughts at that point and lightly shook his head. Now that he and Bangoo had separated, had old regrets and attachments resurfaced? No, that wasn't it...His insecurity was something else. He wanted to become a man that Bangoo could be proud of.

He once again laid a task upon himself. He had stopped in the middle of his search for Soul Edge, but now he would continue that search. Only when his search was complete could he proudly call himself Bangoo's father.

He was not like he used to be, back when he had searched for Soul Edge with doubt in his heart about who he really was. Rock had matured, as well, during the time they had spent in this harsh northern country. This journey would be one in which he reaffirmed his own strength and will. And, this time, he had a home to go back to.

The image of a boy floating in his heard, Rock looked one last time across the great sea before him, and then quietly turned to leave.

This was Rock's third adventure.

---

The semifinals were over. Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy were the only warriors left in the tournament. They had wondered what they would do if they were set against each other during the tournament, and even wondered what would happen if they were the only three remaining, but had never come to a conclusion.

"So." Ivy said, breaking the silence as the three of them pondered this issue. "I wonder who's going to be the winner?"

"None of us are." Siegfried replied. "We're not fighting any more. We're leaving now."

"..._What_?" Ivy demanded, and leapt up from where she sat. Tira, who had found a release from the withdrawal of killing in this tournament, felt a little disappointment from Siegfried's words, herself.

"There is no need to stay here any longer."

"The tournament isn't over yet!"

"We didn't come here to fight in a tournament. We came here to question the warriors, and that is exactly what we've done."

"But the finalists can't just leave the tournament!"

"They can. There is no rule against it. In fact, the rules state that, at any point, a participant withdraw from the tournament if he so desires."

"That's not what I meant! I mean, it's unheard of for three finalists to just leave!"

"I know it's unconventional. But we don't have all the time in the world. We've already spent too much time in one spot. Every moment we spend - _waste_ - not searching for a way to destroy Soul Edge, is a moment that someone comes closer to obtaining it. I am sure that I don't have to remind you, Ivy, that it is a bad idea it is to let Soul Edge fall into someone's hands."

"What about the money? We'll receive a huge sum after one of us wins the tournament."

"We've already accumulated a lot of money from this tournament so far. We don't need any more."

"You don't know that for sure! What if we happen to need a lot of money in the future? Think of this as gaining funds for our quest!"

"Every moment we spend arguing is another moment that someone comes closer to obtaining-"

"You're full of the same damn arguments! Don't you ever say anything new?"

"Hey!" This voice had come from Tira. Siegfried and Ivy turned to her, surprised. "You shouldn't argue with Master!"

"Oh, no you don't." Ivy hissed at Tira. "Don't speak. Don't say _anything_. You don't have a_ right_ to talk. You're just some mindless puppet that follows whatever he says. Your opinion means _nothing_; it's just an echo of whatever Siegfried wants!"

"...That's not true! What he's saying makes a lot of sense! Master is right!"

"Of _course_ he's right. He's _always_ right, to you. But I'm not going to agree with everything and anything he says, because, unlike you, I've got a mind of my own, and I'm not just some pathetic sex slave!"

At this, Tira leapt up from her seat, and gripped her weapon. Ivy, an amused look on her face, grabbed her weapon, as well. Tira trembled slightly as she restrained herself from lunging forward and slashing a gash across Ivy's smug face, and her eyes darted back and forth from Ivy to her Master, hoping that he'd give her a command to put the situation at ease.

"...You know what? I've changed my mind."

Siegfried said these words in voice he rarely spoke in. Ivy and Tira had heard him speak in this voice only one or two times, and it had been under times of intense stress and frustration. They instantly knew that had angered him beyond acceptability, and each of them felt a pang of guilt for angering a man who was normally so calm and serious - but their guilt did not rise above their anger towards one another.

"If it would make you two feel better to jump into a ring and rip each other's throats out, then who am I to stop you?" Siegfried said.

Tira chose to interpret Siegfried's words as an order, and bounded off towards the ring. Ivy followed close behind.


	9. Catfight

The two women were standing in the ring. A sadistic smile slowly spread across Ivy's face in anticipation, but Tira's remained serious. She was too furious at Ivy to even think about how good it was going to feel to fight her.

Ivy unsheathed her sword with great flourish, causing cheers from the audience. She'd come to learn what the crowd liked to see, and enjoyed it when she was being cheered. Tira's ring blade was slung on her body, and she removed it. Her body slipped into the stance of her fighting style, and Ivy did the same.

Without yet raising their weapons into position, the two warriors circled each other. The crowd grew as silent as death, in a state of suspense they'd rarely felt. Once the two warriors had reached a certain proximity, they finally raised their weapons.

Now in position, they no longer circled each other, but instead moved forward, closer and closer to each other, one baby step at a time. Virtually every member of the crowd was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward and waiting for the moment when one warrior struck another.

At the exact moment that no one in the arena could take the suspense, both women swung their weapons. The two blades of very different make clashed, then were pulled back, and then were swung and clashed again.

Each of them stood their ground, not taking so much as a single step backwards or to any side, striking and defending repeatedly at an insanely close proximity. And, then, at the exact same moment, they stopped - and when they did so, neither of them had even been touched by the other's weapon.

The two women, weapons in attack position, stared across at the other one, as they each prepared for their next attack. Now, they begin to circle again, their feet making a circular walk even closer to one another. Once, their weapons were touching each other, they stopped walking, and both women pressed their weapon against the other's. Both woman stared at the other with intense hatred and poured all of that hatred into their grip on their weapon and the pressure with which they pressed it against the other. Soon, they were exerting so much force that the metal of their weapons was grinding, they were gritting they teeth, and droplets of sweat were dripping down their faces. Although they were breathing laboriously, neither one of them faltered.

The crowd, of course, was going wild - but in complete silence.

And, then, Ivy's eyes looked down, at Tira's breasts.

She smirked.

She quickly took one of her hands off of her sword's hilt, sent it darting straight at Tira's chest, grabbed ahold of the thin strip of fabric in the middle, and pulled hard on it. It ripped, and Tira's top flew open, exposing her breasts.

Tira quickly looked down, seeing the fabric of her clothing hanging loosely while her breasts jutted out, unrestrained. Her eyes and mouth flew wide open.

"...You BITCH!"

She looked back at Ivy just in time to see a fist slam into her face.

Tira went flying backward, and landed on her back - she completely lost her grip on her ringblade, and it went flying away. Ivy stood above her, sword poised to stab into her neck. Tira swung her feet, kicking Ivy's legs and knocking her down. When she fell, she landed on her elbow, and the pain caused her to let go of her sword, which clattered off to the side.

Tira rolled her body to her right, rolling on top of Ivy. She grabbed a hold of the woman's hair, and began to slam her fist into Ivy's head. After recovering from the shock, Ivy reached back, and grabbed Tira's hair. Then she pulled down hard, causing Tira's head to slam into the arena floor.

Ivy rolled out from underneath Tira, and jumped to her feet. Tira did the same. They both lunged forward, swinging their fists at each other frantically.

Eventually, Tira's hand found the fabric of Ivy's top, and she pulled it down, exposing her breasts as well. In response, Ivy grabbed a hold of Tira's hair and yanked hard, but Tira did the same. The two of them became locked together via this grip, and once again the only thing they could do was to throw punches.

Eventually, Ivy's grip slipped. Tira punched her hard, and she fell backwards. She moved quickly to get on top of Ivy, but Ivy pushed her off. She tried again, but this time the two of them gripped each other's hair, causing them to fall back into the same deadlock.

Ivy brought up her leg, and yanked on Tira's hair, bringing Tira's head slamming into her knee, but the momentum carried her on top of Ivy, and now Tira had Ivy pinned down. Now Tira was in the perfect position to unleash a flurry of punches at Ivy. Ivy held back one of Tira's hands, and tried to use her free arm as a shield, but Tira punched Ivy's head over and over with her other hand.

Meanwhile, nearly every single person in the crowd was roaring like an animal. They had all piled out of their seats and swarming around the edge of the moat around the ring, wanting to get as close a look as possible at the two topless grappling women, and finding extreme entertainment in the twist that had taken place.

And as this happened, Siegfried watched from the back of the stands, shaking his head in dismay. _I cannot believe this. This is the most foolish thing I have ever seen. That is not even a battle anymore. That is two women who just want to kill each other. There is not even a point to what they are doing. Do they intend to simply rip each other's hair out until they're both bald and rip each other's clothing off until they're both naked?_

Now that the 'battle' had digressed to a point at which one woman was simply holding up her arms in defense, and the other woman was simply punching the other in the head, both of them slowly began to realize that the fight was going nowhere - but neither of them knew how to end it.

As Ivy was the one in the weaker position, and Tira was poised to continue hitting her until she was knocked out, she made a decision that was horribly embarrassing, but the only wise decision there was to make.

She raised her finger into the air.

This gesture reminded Tire that they were in an arena conducting a match, or were supposed to be, and looked up to see the gazes of dozens of people just a few feet away from her, cheering madly, and holding their thumbs pointing upward.

Tira's face flushed bright red, and she quickly slipped off of Ivy. Facing away from the audience, she slipped off her top and put it on backwards so that it was her back, not her chest, that was bare. Meanwhile, Ivy folded her top back into place so that it covered her.

The crowd didn't stop cheering, or staring. They were ecstatic. It was the best match they had ever seen. Siegfried predicted that a new 'secret sport' was going to be born from this that involved two females grappling with one another and were wearing minimal clothing, if any at all.

With their weapons in hand again, Tira and Ivy exited the ring, rushing off in different directions, too embarrassed to look at one another, or be looked at by anyone. Siegfried sighed. _I think I've made a mistake. After a mess like this, they're bound to hate each other more, not less._

Siegfried was left alone, and without a clue what to do. Although the most prudent choice would be to gather the two girls and leave, he knew that Tira and Ivy would not want to be spoken to, and he did not feel like talking to anyone at that moment, either. In any case, the next battle - Siegfried versus Tira - would soon be announced, and then Tira would have to come forth, or be dropped from the tournament. He was hoping for her to withdraw, anyway, but the announcement would probably cause her to show up, and then they could get on with things.

At the moment, however, Siegfried turned his attention to something else. During the entire tournament, he had sensed many aggressive wills from all around him. However, one will in particular was different from the rest, in a way that Siegfried could not name. As each participant was defeated, the number of aggressive wills had gone down, and he was able to single out that one will slightly better. Now that virtually no warriors remained, that will stuck out obtrusively, and Siegfried was able to determine what made this will so different.

It was not coming from a living creature.

If it had been, then Siegfried would have been able to sense both the will and the presence of the being. But what he sensed was a will without a body. A ghost? Could that be it?

Suddenly, the situation changed. The will was rapidly approaching him from behind, and increasing in aggressiveness. Siegfried whirled around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. And someone had, indeed, been approaching him from behind. Or, rather, something.

It was dressed in a green hat with a ridiculously large red feather sticking out of it. It wore a frilly white collar that looked like something a monarch would wear. The shoulders of its clothing were puffy and red, and the pants it wore were green with purple stripes, reminding Siegfried of a court jester. In addition to this clownish attire, it was wearing a plate of armor on its chest and rough-looking gauntlets and boots. Siegfried would have found its appearance humorous if it were not for two things. First, it was holding two giant wavy blades in each hand, and second, it did not have a face. For a head, it merely had a skull. It emitted low growling sounds.

"...Who are you?" Siegfried demanded.

The monstrosity said nothing that Siegfried could understand.

"What do you want from me?"

Again, Siegfried could not understand this being's speech. It readied its weapons. It looked like a revenant - like one who had returned to life after death.

"Very well, Revenant." Siegfried muttered under his breath. "You are not a living being, so I will give you no mercy."

The being growled, and then lunged.

---

Tira didn't want to fight her Master. She planned to withdraw from the tournament. She thought that her Master would be okay with this idea, because he wanted to leave the arena, anyway, and simply withdrawing would make Siegfried the champion by default and net him the prize money, which would benefit them all, anyway.

Tira was summoned, and she began to trudge to the ring. She felt ashamed of what she'd done. At the moment, it had felt so good to just fight and swing away at that stupid bitch - but the aftermath wasn't so good. She didn't know how she'd ever look Ivy in the eyes again. And everyone had seen her breasts!

Tira centered her thoughts on her Master, instead. She wondered if he would be angry with her...

When she reached the ring, her Master was not there. There was confusion, especially in Tira, because she had seen herself forfeiting, not her Master. She went off to look for him.

And when she did, she saw him standing before a corpse.

"M-Master!!" She exclaimed. "Did you kill this man?"

"No." Siegfried replied. "He was already dead."

"What...?"

"A skeleton animated with spiritual energy." He explained. "It was just a puppet. And a weak one, at that. But there are not many who can perform magic feats such as this one…It might be best for us to assume that my possession of the cursed sword is no longer secret."

"It was a puppet? ...But whose puppet? Who sent it after you?"

"I can trace the remaining energy to find out. Whoever it is, we should consider that man an enemy."

"Funny. That's exactly what you said about him the last time."

These words came from Ivy.

"...Ivy. What do you mean, that's exactly what I said about him the last time?"

"I came because I felt the spiritual energy - I recognized it."

"You know whose energy this is?"

"Yes. I could never forget him." Ivy hissed. Siegfried quickly figured out whom she was talking about.

"...The man who broke into your mansion and burnt that book."

"Yes. His energy was very powerful, and so was his magic. This energy is his, there is no doubt. And he is adept enough at magic for a feat like this one."

"He is definitely attempting to impede upon my progress - first setting you against me, then sending this thing after me. This cannot go on any further. He must be stopped."

Tira was curious. "Do you mean - kill him?"

"...If there is no other way." Siegfried said. "A threat to us is a threat to Soul Edge falling into the wrong hands."

Ivy scoffed upon hearing Siegfried's words, but said no more.

"...Oh, yeah, I almost forgot!" Tira said. "Master, they want us at the ring. Should I withdraw so you get the prize money?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea. ...It has been a long day. We will rest. But tomorrow, we will track down the man responsible for... " He looked down at the remains of the Revenant. "…_this_."


	10. Humiliation and Revenge

Ivy had been humiliated.

She'd challenged the person she hated the most to a battle, and had been completely defeated by them - forced into a position of weakness, and beaten over and over, while dozens of people whom had respected her moments ago all gazed at her half-nude form, until she had to do the thing that was most difficult for her to do - admit defeat.

In the days since then, she'd felt more shame than she'd ever felt in her entire life...and was even forced to travel with the one who'd defeated her.

Many people would be broken for days, or even for weeks after such a horrifying experience. However, Ivy took solace in one fact.

She could have revenge for her humiliation. Revenge that would make her enemy wish they'd never been born.

Tira had few weaknesses. There weren't many things that she cared about, so she didn't have many 'soft spots' that Ivy could strike. However, she did have one very large weakness - that which seemed to be the only thing that she actually cared about.

Siegfried.

Siegfried and Tira had done such a good job of keeping their feelings for one another a secret that it had actually taken Ivy quite a while to figure it out. But, once she began to notice the secret smiles they darted at one another from time to time, the way they looked after they'd both been gone together for a substantial amount of time, and other subtle hints, it wasn't long before she figured out that the two of them would often sneak off to bathe in passion. They did a pretty good job of hiding it, but Ivy knew. Before she'd used that knowledge to insult Tira at the arena, they might have actually still believed that Ivy didn't know - if they were extremely naive.

A blow hurts the most not when it is to oneself, but when it is to the thing that one loves the most. Tira's weak point was Siegfried. However, Ivy could not kill him. She was confident that she could defeat him in battle, provided that Tira didn't intervene as she had the last time, but Siegfried was far too valuable, both as a comrade and as potential tool, to be killed.

However, this fact did not stop Ivy in the least. If she couldn't take Siegfried from Tira by killing him, she'd just have to take him from her another way.

Ivy began planning how she'd take him. In the time she'd spent with him, she'd learned what he valued the most - innocence and purity. He was questing to be redeemed of his sins, after all. And, although he was a very serious and stoic man, she had noticed that he tended to have a weakness for female flesh. Combine these two aspects of Siegfried together, and...

Ivy's plan was complete.

Siegfried, Ivy, and Tira had nearly caught up to the man whom had sent the Revenant after them. They had been following his trail a few days now, and based on the rate at which they were catching up to him, they'd be upon him tomorrow. However, they had come a long way, and were weary from traveling; they stopped to take a rest before the confrontation.

They had been halfway through a forest when they decided to rest, had stopped in a small clearing, and started a small campfire. A river ran nearby, and Tira had left to bathe in it. Such an action would normally be a cue for Siegfried to follow her, but tonight he was feeling too weary to do so.

Before going to sleep, Siegfried could not help but notice that Ivy had been acting peculiar ever since Tira had left to bathe. She had a sad look on her face, and looked like she had a lot on her mind. It was very uncharacteristic of her - he'd never seen her like that before. If something was bothering Ivy, she was more likely to be furious about it than to be sad. Yet, she would occasionally give depressed sighs as she sat looking into the fire.

What could be bothering her? Was it the fight? Tira and Ivy had not spoken a word to each other after it - nor had they regarded each other in particularly cold ways. They just seemed to act as if the other did not exist, not wishing to think about one another.

Siegfried would have liked to ask Ivy what was wrong, but she could often be a very irritable person, so talking to her when she was in a strange mood seemed to be a big risk. He was worried for her, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He began to lay himself down to sleep.

"...Siegfried."

He quickly stopped and sat up. The voice was Ivy's - but also not Ivy's. It reminded him of the time he was at her door and she called out to him in a cheerful voice to deceive him. This voice, however, was forlorn and melancholy. Siegfried knew very well that Ivy was a master of deception, and acknowledged the possibility that she was merely putting on some kind of act, but was too curious to not see what she had to say. Keeping his guard up, he proceeded to see what she wanted. "...Yes?" he asked.

"...I want...to apologize."

"...Apologize?" Siegfried whispered to himself in disbelief. This definitely wasn't the Ivy he knew, and when Ivy wasn't acting herself, it was because she was trying to deceive someone. ...But, for some reason...he wouldn't allow himself to believe that she could be trying to trick him. Something about the way she was acting - something he couldn't put his finger on or name - was telling him that she was actually being sincere.

"...I want to apologize...for the fight, and for causing so much trouble so far. You were very generous to offer to let me join you, and in return I've been rude and cold. I've felt guilty about it for a long time. And I want to say that I'm sorry."

Siegfried couldn't believe what he was hearing. These were not the sort of things that Ivy would say, or even that she would think or feel. All the evidence pointed to it being a trick, but still something inside of him told him that her words were true.

Ivy looked up from the fire, to meet Siegfried's gaze with her own. Just as she spoke to him in a voice he'd never heard before, she now looked at him with eyes that he'd never seen before. They looked sad and guilty - but, also, somehow...innocent.

_Innocence...? That's it!_

Siegfried realized what he was seeing in Ivy. He was seeing the young girl that he'd seen in that painting in her mansion - the young Ivy who looked curious and shy...innocent and pure. Siegfried was in awe, shocked to find that the young girl he'd admired hadn't transformed into Ivy - that girl had remained, deep down inside of her.

_...He's falling for it. Good. So easy..._

"...I want to...make it up to you." Ivy said.

Make it up to me...? What does she mean? ...Well, if she wants to repent, she needs merely to apologize to Tira as well, and not cause trouble in the future...

Keeping her eyes locked onto his, Ivy stood up, and slowly began to walk towards him. With every step she took, the innocent look in her eyes faded, and was replaced by a different look - a seductive, sexy look, quite the opposite of innocent. She continued her approach, and once she stood before Siegfried, she began to bend down, making sure to do so slowly to provide Siegfried plenty of time to take advantage of the excellent view of her cleavage. When her face was level with his, she leaned forward, and kissed him.

Siegfried was frozen in a mixture of shock and arousal. He didn't know what to say, do, or even think. All thought that she was attempting to trick him had disappeared when he'd realized that he was looking at the sweet and innocent girl still inside of her, and seeing that side of her had made him suddenly become unbelievably attracted to her. She was a pure, innocent girl, but also, at the same time, was an intensely sexy vixen that knew exactly what to do to drive him wild with desire.

Siegfried's thoughts quickly turned to Tira. If he did anything with Ivy, would he be being disloyal to Tira? No - although they were frequent sexual partners, and there was definitely a feeling of romance between them, he and Tira had never made an agreement to be monogamous. ...Yet, Siegfried would have agreed to be her one and only lover in a heartbeat, and often felt that he was falling in love with her.

What was the right thing to do? At the moment, he lusted for Ivy - but, even if it would technically be all right, it would still feel so wrong to do anything with a woman other than Tira...

Siegfried's mind was in a deadlock, and he could not decide what to do. So, after a moment's hesitation, he simply let his body decide for him.

He began to kiss Ivy back.

And that was the exact moment when she knew that she had won.

She put her hands on his shoulders and guided him down onto the ground. When he was laying back, she straddled herself on his waist. She broke the kiss, and began to slide her hands up and down her body in sensual motions. When her hands reached her chest, she moved her hands down into her top, pushing it down and exposing her breasts. Then she moved her breasts around, squeezing them and pushing them together. When it seemed like Siegfried could be teased no longer, she took his hands and put them on her breasts.

Siegfried showed his gratitude with a moan and by squeezing her breasts firmly. He moved his hands around them, feeling and squeezing them, and Ivy moaned sensually, as if his touch made her ecstatic. When Ivy felt that she'd let him play with her breasts long enough, she took his hands once more and moved them down her body, and set them on her ass. Siegfried instantly gripped it, and pulled it towards his lower body, while simultaneously arching his pelvis up against her ass.

Ivy left his hands there, and then began to strip her clothing off, making sure to do so as slowly and sensually as possible, adding in as many touches as she could, such as sliding her tongue across her upper lip. Before long, she was naked, and Siegfried's eyes roved up and down her body.

Now Ivy moved her hands to Siegfried's body. He had already taken off his armor shortly after they had stopped to set up camp, and was wearing only his tight black underclothing. Ivy slid her hands over Siegfried's body, eyeing it with a hungry look in her eyes. She worked his clothing off, much quicker than she'd taken off her own clothing, to make him think that she longed to see him naked. This is not to say that Ivy was not impressed with Siegfried's body, and enjoyed running her hands over his torso, chest, and strong arms almost as much as he did.

When his pants were off, Ivy gazed in awe at his hard dick, only half faking her surprise. She ran a hand up and down his shaft, and swirled her tongue around the head. Then she massaged his balls while drawing her tongue up the shaft slowly. She did everything she could to pleasure him, and when she had exhausted all that her tongue and hands could do, she placed her breasts on either side of his dick and pressed them against it.

This was Siegfried's favorite 'favor' to receive, and the act drove him wild. He dipped his head back and moaned, and his hands went to Ivy's breasts. She moved them up and down the shaft, and then let him do it himself. Siegfried panted and stared intensely at the spectacle, and Ivy found herself amused by how much it pleased him.

But, Ivy could not let Siegfried reach his climax this way. To his disappointment, she pulled away from him, but as she readjusted her position, Siegfried saw that something even better was before. She straddled him again, this time across the groin, and plunged his dick inside of her.

She moaned loudly, placed her hands on his torso, and pushed on it, bringing her body up off of him, and then slid back down on top of him. Ivy repeated this action, bringing Siegfried's dick in and out of her, moaning and tossing her head around as if in intense pleasure. Siegfried put his hands on her waist and watched her actions with extreme arousal.

Ivy pushed her breasts together with her arms, and later took to grabbing and fondling them as she rode him. She arched her back with every thrust so that her breasts bounced and jiggled around, and Siegfried took full advantage of the sight. He slid his hands around her body, grabbing her ass and breasts.

Eventually, his arousal was too much to bear. Siegfried's movements and breaths became more and more frantic as he neared his climax, and he moaned Ivy's name loudly as he came into her. To Ivy's surprise, the entire situation had aroused her far more than she thought it would, and after seeing Siegfried orgasm, she was aroused enough to orgasm herself, and moaned his name as she did so.

The two of them slowed to a stop, and Ivy collapsed breathlessly on top of Siegfried. They wrapped their arms and legs around on another, and lay there together, panting exhaustedly.

_Interesting. That wasn't half bad. It actually felt pretty good. I might do this more often in the future._ Ivy thought, as she slowly drew a circle in Siegfried's panting chest with her fingertip.

And she turned her eyes upwards at the tree branch where Tira was perched, and shot her a smile, as she had done several times while pleasuring her Master.


	11. A Night of Revelations

Tira sat on the branch, slumped up against the tree. It was an uncomfortable position, and the bark of the tree was hard and rough, but her emotions at the moment were sapping all of her strength, and she couldn't even will herself to move an inch.

Her head was tilted back, and the full moon was in the center of her vision, but she wasn't looking at it. She was simply staring blankly ahead of herself, her mind a sea of painful thoughts and emotions.

_...Master...How could you...?...How could you lay with that woman...?..._

She was instilled with a desire to look at Ivy to see with her own eyes the woman her Master had chosen to sleep with, and she rolled her head to the side. When she saw her body still entangled with her Master's as they bathed in the warm afterglow of sex, she became overwhelmed with pain and jerked her head the other way.

_What is it about her that made him want to lay with her? ...Her beauty? ...She _is_ pretty...and her...body is..._

Tira looked down at her own body. She was not a vain person and did not normally obsess over her appearance, although ever since she'd become the slave of her Master, she'd found herself caring a little more about how she looked. It was rarely that she looked at the shape or form of her body critically, but now she did so.

_She has larger breasts than me...and her ass is bigger, too...but her waist is so thin...and she's always walking around in that outfit...Was it her body, Master? Her body, that is so much more attractive than mine?_

Tira's feelings of insecurity and inferiority made her feel more anger towards her tormentor, and she began to think thought along a different line.

_...How could you sleep with a woman who is so cold! She's discourteous, vulgar, and fights sadistically and cruelly. Even if she's so beautiful, her personality has to repulse you! Are you that shallow, Master? Do looks really take priority over personality? ...No. I don't believe it. You're deeper than that. How did she seduce you? What could you have seen in her?_

Tira thought of Siegfried's righteousness and desire for justice. He didn't seem like the kind who liked such vile women. He valued innocence, and purity, and-

_...That's it._

While exploring Ivy's mansion, Tira had seen a painting of Ivy as a child. Young and pure - the perfect picture of an innocent girl.

_That Ivy...That innocent Ivy...must still exist. And Siegfried saw it in her...and then slept with her. That's the only answer._

Tira's head slowly tilted to survey the scene again. She tried not to look at the two of them. She noticed Ivy's gear lying on the ground.

_Ugh. That clothing. How in the world does a woman wearing that kind of clothing actually manage to look innocent? Ivy must have preformed an incredible deception to trick Siegfried...A spell? Or just her deceptive abilities? I guess I'll never know._

The thought of Siegfried as one so righteous kindled another thought in Tira's mind. How could he have two lovers at the same time? That would go against his beliefs. Siegfried's not the sort of man that would do that.

Suddenly, a revelation hit Tira so hard, she nearly fell off of the tree branch.

_...Master...must not think of me as a lover. ...He only sees me as his slave. Nothing more._

Tira's body suddenly felt very heavy, and her head hung downwards.

_That is all I am - a slave. I have been a slave since the day I was born. I'm not fit to become anything else - a slave is only thing that I can be. I have a good Master. The best one I could possibly ask for. The best way to repay him for his kindness is to be a good slave. Obey him, serve him, appease him...and if he chooses to lay with another woman...he entirely has the right to do so._

As Tira thought these things, tears rolled down her cheeks as if her eyes were waterfalls. But, although she allowed her tears to flow freely, she did not allow her body to shake or shudder. She was unable to suppress her feelings that these thoughts were sad, but she forced herself to realize that she had to face and accept these truths as her reality.

_There is no escaping it. This is who I am. This is my life. I must accept that Master will do this. He is entitled to. And I...am a slave._

"...But _why_ did it have to be _her_?"

Tira's hands flew to her mouth after her sudden outburst. She looked quickly to the sleeping pair to see if she had awoken them. It appeared that she hadn't spoken loudly enough to wake Siegfried, but Ivy stirred.

Her eyes opened sleepily, and she turned and looked at Siegfried. She looked up and down his form for a few moments, admiring his body. Tira felt herself beginning to shake, this time out of anger. Ivy looked up to the perch where Tira was poised. Tira was mostly hidden by shadows and other branches, but Ivy could just make out the sight of her eyes. She smiled the same smug smile she'd given Tira several times as she pleasured her Master, and then slowly leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the sleeping man's lips. A rustle from the tree let Ivy know that her goal had been achieved. She then stood up, better covered Siegfried with his blanket with all the affection of a mother tucking her son in to bed, picked up her clothing and put it on, and then - very slowly, and while swinging her hips to side to side - walked to her own pair of blankets, which served as a bed for travelers, and slipped in them to go to sleep.

Tira's eyes had followed Ivy as she carried out these actions. Tira didn't know how long her gaze stayed on Ivy's still form after that. It felt like she stared at her for an eternity, seething in anger and thinking the darkest of thoughts. It was as if she was in some sort of trance, and she was only dimly aware of it.

What Tira saw next was Ivy's body laying at her feet, and her ring blade held high in the air above her head, ready to decapitate her with one swift movement. Then she swung her arm downwards, and the ring blade with it.

This sudden vision was pleasing to Tira, but as her blade swung down, she realized something.

This was no vision; this was reality.

Tira's blade stopped less than an inch above Ivy's neck. She realized that, in her trance of dark thoughts, she had subconsciously attempted to kill Ivy. Her second thought was, _Why did I stop?_

With regret, she realized that it would not be a wise idea to kill Ivy. Master would be angry with her, and Ivy was helpful to Master's goal. As vile a woman as she was, and as much as Ivy wanted to kill her, she would have to let her live.

_...Wait. That's it._

_'Let' her live._

Tira's mind flashed back to the moment in time when she was fighting Rock in the Arena.

_The power to hold someone's life in the palm of your hand, poke a hole in them, and watch their life slowly seep out of them..._

_...But, instead of killing them, letting them live. They'd continue to live only because you let them do so..._

_...They'd practically belong to you._

Tira normally attempted to prevent herself from thinking such thoughts, knowing that her Master would disapprove of them. However, these thoughts from the Arena came rushing to her mind, and, as she looked down at Ivy's vulnerable neck, she came to a decision.

_...I'll _let_ her live. Yes. I will _let_ her live._

Tira felt more satisfied than she had in a very long time - this feeling nearly matched the feeling from when she killed. It was perfect - from now on, Tira would hold Ivy's life in her hand, and her continued existence would be thanks to Tira, for, although she had the opportunity to do so whenever she pleased, Tira would not kill Ivy, and would _let_ her live.

As a wave of content washed over her, Tira turned around, walked to her own blankets, slid into them, and slept.


	12. Time Marches On

_...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick..._

The steady rhythm of the clock tower's ticking as it faithfully counted the passing of seconds was the only sound that could be heard, aside from the low creaking sounds of the rest of the clock's machinery. The ticking, however, as the most famous characteristic of a clock, was the most noticeable sound. Only one man was present inside of the clock tower to hear this sound.

This man in particular had paid visits to this clock tower since the day it was built. It was a habit of his that had not changed over the course of many years - indeed, many lifetimes. He had been such a different person each time he visited. So many different forms of him had stepped into the same tower, sat in the same spot, listened to the same sound that echoed throughout the tower with the passing of each second.

_...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick..._

This man had distorted the laws of causality set down by the gods, and torn off the shackles of time. 'Time' no longer held any meaning for this man.

Sometimes, this man wondered why, despite his timeless condition, he had such an affection for this place - for an instrument built for the purpose of measuring something which meant nothing to him. Seeking an explanation, he had ventured to theorize that, for one who has lost his sense of time, this is the only place where he can truly feel the passage of time. Perhaps it is the endless ticking of the clock's mechanism that reassures him that time even exists.

_...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick...Tick..._

---

Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy stood looking up at a tall stone clock tower. It was standing at the corner of a temple that sat outside the edge of a large town.

The trail that the trio had been following had led them not to the tower, but the town. They had asked around for a man matching the description they provided. It turned out that there was a local myth about 'the man with the golden eye'. Legend held that a man with a golden eye could sometimes be seen entering the clock tower, after which a light would begin to shine from a window near the top of the rarely-visited tower's clock mechanism. The town was aflutter with rumors that, recently, the man had once again returned to the clock tower. Most of the town's citizens, however, warned against approaching the clock tower and attempting to communicate with the man, for he was said to be a powerful dark magician who placed a curse on those who disturb him.

These details were enough to tell the trio that they had finally caught up to the man they were looking for. They set out for the tower at once, and, now standing at the entrance, discussed what to do next. Their discussion was the most the three of them had spoken after the events of last night.

Siegfried had awoken to find Ivy in her blankets and Tira in her own blankets, as well. It seemed possible that, if Tira spent so long bathing that she did not return until Ivy had slipped into her blankets, she might not know a thing about what happened last night. If she did know, she did not express it. Siegfried found himself speculating about it out of curiosity - perhaps it didn't bother Tira at all if Siegfried slept with other women? Something to do with being a slave? Siegfried had no way of knowing what she thought about the situation, and in case she didn't know about it at all, he was in no rush to discuss the matter with her. With a heavy sigh, he regretted that their group had transformed into such a melodramatic mess. He detested the awkward air that hung over the three of them due to the passion they'd each shared, whether in the form of fighting one another or making love. Their situation was becoming so complex that he felt like he was a character in a play, or a story for someone's amusement.

Ivy moved her hand to open the door to the clock tower.

"Wait."

Ivy turned around and faced Siegfried. "What is it?"

"This could be a trap. One of his skill must have been able to tell that he was being followed. If he didn't want us to catch up to him, he would have thrown us off of his path, not stopped in a place he often comes to. He is anticipating us to walk in any moment now. Judging by his previous deeds, he has most likely laid traps for us."

Ivy paused, took in Siegfried's argument, and then nodded. "All right, so, what shall we do?"

"I'll go in alone."

"What? No!" Tira said suddenly. She usually passively accepted any order or plan, and it was rare for her to object to something, so Siegfried and Ivy were slightly surprised by her objection. "You...you can't go in there alone!"

"Why not?" Siegfried asked.

"...Because..." Tira seemed lost. "...Because...you're our leader! You're too important! You shouldn't risk your safety!"

"I agree with her, Siegfried." Ivy said suddenly. Siegfried and Tira turned to her. "Tira is saying that you are too important to send in, and should send in someone who is less important - whichever one of us you can afford to risk. Tell us whoever is less valuable to you, and that person will go in."

Both women looked at Siegfried, and his glance went back and forth between the two of them. Ivy stood with a smug smirk on her face, confident that Siegfried would choose Tira to go in. Tira's expression was of fear and anticipation - if Siegfried chose her, then she would know that she really was nothing more than a slave to him.

A short silence followed, which, due to the heavy anticipation in the air, seemed to stretch on for minutes. Siegfried closed his eyes for a moment, and then he spoke.

"...No."

"...What do you mean, 'no'?" Ivy asked.

Siegfried pointed a finger at her. "I see what you're trying to do, and I'm not going to have it. I'm not going to fuel any more drama or infighting. Didn't you say last night that you were sorry for the times when you added more fuel to the fire?"

"I - I..." Ivy was taken aback by how a situation geared in her favor had suddenly been turned against her.

"I'm going in, not because of anything that has to do with value, but because I believe that I could best defend myself. Now, you two stay here, don't follow me unless I give a signal, and _no fighting_."

With this, Siegfried turned around, pushed open the door to the clock tower, and entered it.

---

The inside of the clock tower was not well-lit; the only light came in from windows. Stained glass windows, no less, which painted the interior of the tower in surreal colors. Siegfried did not see anyone on this level of the tower, and only saw a spiral staircase, leading to the top of the tower where the clock mechanism was. With no other alternative, Siegfried began to climb the staircase.

His ascension through the clock tower was an odd journey, as the stained glass windows cast everything in a bizarre light, the ticking of the clock above became louder and louder with every step, and the anxiety of finally meeting the mysterious man washed over Siegfried. Finally, the journey was over, and he was at the top of the stairway.

Siegfried was surrounded by a complex arrangement of machinery. There were dozens of giant gears on his every side, all creaking as they counted the passage of time. Chains and ropes ran to and fro across the area, connecting and holding up various weights, gears, and other things. In the center of the area was a large circular platform, spinning around, but doing so very slowly. There was a plank leading from the staircase to the circular platform. Siegfried stepped across it...and immediately wished he had been more cautious.

The plank was pulled out from underneath him! Upon noticing this, he barely had enough time to order his legs to make a leap onto the circular platform - missed! - his arms flailed out, and he grabbed onto the edge. He hung precariously by his fingertips. He looked down, and saw the plank fall, clattering against various outcroppings, to the ground a great distance below. That fall would be an instant death.

With great labor, Siegfried hoisted himself up onto the platform. He reached around to make sure he was still in possession of his sword. He was, and took it out of its sheath and into his hand. He walked to the center of the platform, and began to look around the room for the man. When he saw no one, he called out.

"Hello? I know that you are here. I wish to speak with you - nothing more."

Siegfried waited for a reply, but received none. He continued looking around the room for a sign of anything.

"...You've served your purpose. It's time for you to die."

Siegfried whirled his head around at the source of the voice, but he could not detect where it had come from.

"Wait! Who are you? Why do you wish to-"

CLANG

Siegfried whirled around at this new sound. He saw, rolling towards him, a giant cogwheel. His first reaction was that it was an extremely bizarre way to attack an opponent, and his second reaction was to quickly remove himself from the path of the wheel, by rolling to the right. The wheel rolled past him, fell off the edge of the platform, and fell the long distance to the ground below, making a lot of loud noise as it did so.

Then, the man finally showed himself. He leapt down from a higher level, and landed on the platform. He was clad exactly as Ivy had described him - white hood and robes, brown skin, golden eye, and large scythe.

"Who are you?" Siegfried demanded. The man did not respond. "Why are you trying to kill me? Is it for revenge? Is it for Soul Edge? Please, let us talk, so that we may avoid any needless bloodshed!"

The man chuckled quietly. "...I do not wish to waste any breath on one who is about to die. However, I shall at least grant you the name of the one who shall take your life. I am Zasalamel."

Siegfried had no time to say anything more. As soon as the last syllable of his name had left his breath, Zasalamel spun around in a circle, swinging his scythe as he did. Siegfried reflexively raised his sword and parried the blow. Zasalamel then spun around in the alternate direction, doing the same with his scythe. This move caught Siegfried off guard, but he was able to parry this blow, as well.

Zasalamel then rapidly approached Siegfried while spinning his scythe vertically, moving it back and forth between the right and left sides of his body. Siegfried knew that he would be unable to block such blows, and walked backwards to evade them. He then realized what his enemy's intent was - to make him walk off the edge of the platform! He leapt and rolled to the right a second before he would have walked backwards and fallen to his doom.

In an attempt to cut Siegfried as he leapt, Zasalamel swung his scythe parallel to the platform, although he missed. With a vertical swing, he sliced the blade of his scythe into the ground, and then used it as leverage to swing his body over it, nearly landing a kick on Siegfried's jaw as he did so.

Once he had righted himself, Zasalamel started using a different technique - stabbing his scythe forward using the top part of the blade instead of the crescent. Siegfried was not going to fall for the same trick twice, and dodged to the side instead of backwards.

Zasalamel then began to twirl the scythe around his body, this time without spinning, and then stabbing with a spike located on the back end of the scythe's shaft. When Siegfried did not falter during either attack and parried and evaded them with ease, sometimes even poised to attack although he held back, Zasalamel decided that he had underestimated his opponent, and would have to fight more seriously.

Zasalamel's scythe suddenly began to burn with fire, although Zasalamel did not show any pain. Both the scythe and his own arms then began to spark with lightning. Realizing that he was witnessing magic, Siegfried moved to the center of the platform to best be able to evade the ensuing attack. Zasalamel's following attacks were lightning fast, and he struck with force he did not have before. Siegfried could not catch most of his attacks, and was stuck - although not fatally - by several blows, and beaten back several feet. He was in danger of falling off of the platform, or even of being sliced in two by a well-aimed slice of the scythe. He prepared to fight back and possibly kill his opponent, when his sword was struck with such force that it was knocked out of his hand!

Siegfried was not skilled in unarmed combat - attempting to attack the man now would be suicide. His only choices now would be to flee the area completely, or possibly pick up his sword again and try to fight, but his level of moral at the moment did not tell him that it was likely he could defeat this man.

Siegfried's moment of hesitation as he pondered his options was all the time Zasalamel needed to swing back his blade in preparation of decapitating Siegfried. But, at the moment when his scythe should have been slicing into Siegfried's neck, Zasalamel was, instead, looking up. In the next moment, he was he who was nearly decapitated, as he leapt backwards in order to dodge a slice from Tira's ring blade.

Tira landed in front of Siegfried, poised to make another strike. But she was not Siegfried's only savior. Moments later, Ivy dropped in as well, her whip-sword slicing through the air where Zasalamel had stood a moment ago.

The three of them stood on one side of the platform, and Zasalamel on the other. His eyes darted back and forth among them, sizing up his situation. Then, he seemed to ease up. His scythe and arms returned to normal. He stood up straight, and faced Siegfried.

"...Are you done with this foolishness? Are you ready to talk?" Siegfried demanded.

Suddenly, the man's left arm began to glow a dark hue of blue. He raised two glowing fingers, and drew a pattern in the air, facing Siegfried. "...I place my curse upon you, you who struggle to escape the sword..."

"...What? ...Why won't you listen! Why won't you just-"

"Your struggle to destroy the sword is futile...but I shall leave that sword in your hands for now. Be sure to take good care of it. We shall meet again."

The man then began to move backwards, although his legs and feet were not moving. He moved into the shadows, and then seemed to melt into them - just as he had done at Ivy's mansion. Despite a cry from Siegfried of "No, wait!" Zasalamel disappeared, and all that remained of him were his cryptic words on the trio's minds.

When the danger seemed to be gone, Ivy spoke. "...So? What did you learn? Who is he? What does he want?"

"I was not able to learn much." Siegfried confessed. "He told me that his name was Zasalamel, although he refused to tell me anything more than that. Besides that, all I have learned is that he is very powerful, and that there is absolutely no doubt that he is an enemy."

"Hmph...so, I trust that we'll be going after him again?"

"No...not for now."

"Why not?"

"Finding him again won't accomplish anything. He refuses to speak, and he's already told us that we'll meet again - when he wants to meet us again, he will arrange it to be so."

"...Master?" Tira inquired timidly. "He said...something about a curse. Did he...really put a curse on you?"

"I...don't know." Siegfried confessed. "I don't feel any different. He is a powerful magician; I wouldn't doubt his ability to curse someone. I doubt that he'd simply claim to put a curse on me for no reason. Only time will tell, I suppose."

"What kind of curse do you think it was?" Tira asked, panicking for the well-being of her Master.

"I told you, Tira, we don't know yet."

Tira looked down sadly. "...Sorry, Master...and sorry for disobeying your orders..."

"...Disobeying my orders?"

"You told me to stay down there. But I disobeyed you. When Ivy and I heard a loud noise, we went to investigate."

Siegfried smiled a little. "I see. That's understandable. And I'm grateful that you came."

Ivy seemed annoyed by the discussion going on between Siegfried and Tira. "...So, where shall we go now?"

Siegfried looked down in concentration. "...I once heard rumors of a man who researched Soul Edge, and stored all of the information in a secret pit in an island in the Mediterranean Sea..."


	13. Blind Loyalty

**The Tale of the Legendary Weapon, Soul Edge**

**As told by Bard Bosun Bones at the Fairweather Tavern**

_Know this, all ye who listen; these whispered tales of a sword that can cut the very heavens asunder are true! This "Soul Edge" exists! Many have tried to possess this legendary weapon, but all have fallen to a horrible fate. That blade is cursed, as sure as I sit here! Yet, warriors from around the globe seek the blade for their own desires. For some, Soul Edge is their key to salvation; for others, their route to damnation. But none of them will back down without a fight! Only the stout of heart and strong of arm can survive the quest for Soul Edge...but be warned! They say to hold Soul Edge is to possess true power...but, ye cannot hold on to it, and your own soul, at the same time! Vercci, the Italian weapon merchant, sought out the blade, and ye all know of his grisly end! Heed my warning...and seek not Soul Edge!_

---

After the discovery of the new world, Europe entered an era of trade, art, and wars, driven by colonization and conquest. The merchants of this time could not have been happier, for they were making a fortune from this new era.

One such Italian merchant dealt with the invincible Spanish Armada, and grew rich from supplying them with weapons. This merchant was named Vercci. He was famous for his enormous fortune, as well as his ruthlessness, the latter of which eventually earned him the nickname, "The Merchant of Death."

Vercci heard the whispered rumors of "an object that would satisfy every earthly desire." He started a scheme to find this mystical weapon. Vercci invited his younger brothers to help him search, but they knew the evils of Soul Edge, and opposed his plan. It is strange how quickly they were recruited into the army, and consequently out of his way. He promoted his right-hand man, Voldo, to lead the search, instead.

Vercci used every means necessary to track down Soul Edge. Mercenary armies searched the land for him, and when that didn't work, cut-throats and pirates scoured the seven seas; but all to no avail. Growing furious, Vercci decided to lead the search himself, and took his fleet to sea.

He took his fleet around the Cape of Good Hope, and headed east. Along the way, he acquired rare and exotic arms and riches at Easter ports. Then, he received disturbing news - in his homeland of Italy, war had broken out between the two great powers. It was the beginning of what was later known as the infamous Italian Wars.

Now that the flames of war were scouring the politically unstable Italy, to return there would be suicide. Vercci even received word that his home had been seized and destroyed. All his wealth was gone. All he had left was his fleet and their treasures. His anger turned into insanity.

In his madness, Vercci decided to bury his treasure so that, even after his death, no one could ever have it. Vercci and his fleet sailed to an uninhabited island. His crew dug a massive pit. A vault, guarded with deadly traps, housed Vercci's remaining treasure and weapons. Voldo then executed the crew, lest they give away the vault's location. Ever loyal, he agreed to be sealed alive inside the vault to protect the treasure.

Ironically, by the time the vault was finished and sealed, the Italian Wars had ceased. But Vercci never made it back to Italy alive.

The decades Voldo spent alone in the pit caused him to become blind, insane, and even forget his own name. All he knew was that his only reason for being was to guard Vercci's secret treasury. And, after all those lonely years, only one of Voldo's talents remained keen - his talent for murder - and, although many thieves attempted to rob the pit over the years, none of them ever exited the pit alive.

And, the ghostly voice of the long-dead Vercci still rings in Voldo's ears...

_"Voldo, protect my treasure!"_

---

As Tira awoke, she felt a wave of pain wash over her body. _Ow...What happened?_ She looked around at where she was. She seemed to be in a cave. There were a few torches lining the walls that allowed her to see. She was lying down on something - but what was it? She got up, turned around, and looked down at -

A pile of corpses!

Tira gave a small yelp and leapt backwards. She had seen her share of corpses, but the thought of lying on a whole pile of them and not knowing it thoroughly creeped her out.

Tira tried to remember where she was, and how she got there. The last thing she remembered was falling...that was because she had accidentally triggered a trap that opened up a hole in the floor...that was because she had volunteered to walk ahead of Siegfried and Ivy to look for traps...and that was because the Money Pit was infamously rigged with traps! That's it, they had been exploring the Money Pit!

Her memory restored, Tira's mind turned to a different question. _How did I survive that fall?_ It doesn't seem like anyone could have lived through such a drop. She looked down at the corpses again. _...Oh, right. They probably broke my fall. The deaths of so many at the hands of this trap inadvertently led to my surviving this trap...how ironic. And sad. They had to die so that I could live..._

Tira's concentration on the matter was broken by the sound of shuffling footsteps behind her. She whirled around, and saw that someone was approaching. She reached for her ringblade, but found that she did not have it. She looked frantically to the left and right, and located it lying a few feet away. She quickly picked it up, and then turned to see who was coming towards her.

It was a man, but his appearance was so bizarre, Tira at first wondered if he was a monster. His skin was pasty and pale - an unsightly grey in color. Several purple straps ran across his head, covering his eyes and mouth. The purple wear extended down his neck to his chest, where it parted to form a gap with more belt buckle-like straps. He wore more purple clothing on his arms and legs, as well as an orange-colored mesh beneath that, but was surprisingly less clothed in areas that one usually is sure to clothe oneself. An uncomfortable-looking crotch guard was strapped where his legs parted, and his rear was relatively under-clothed, as well. Tira found herself wondering if the man's clothing was supposed to be of a sexual nature - not that she found it anything other than repulsive.

In his hands, the man held two large katars. Katars were weapons that Tira did not have much experience dealing with, and she tried to remember what she had learned about them. They were daggers with horizontal hand grips, which resulted in the blade of the sword sitting above the user's knuckles. To stab an opponent, one would have to punch, instead of swing, unlike when using a regular knife or dagger. This would lead to an acrobatic fighting style, much like Tira's own style. The katar seemed more like an extension of the fist than a dagger, and thus Tira knew that, if she were to battle this man, he would definitely attack more than defend.

The man moved in an extremely odd way. He 'slithered' his entire body as he moved forward, and seemed to move more like a snake than a human. Tira was disturbed by this odd way of walking, almost more than she was disturbed by his clothing.

Finally, the man came to a stop several feet away from her, but his odd movements did not seem to cease.

"...Hs...Hsssss..."

It sounded like the man had tried to say something, but, either due to the purple strap binding his mouth, or perhaps another factor, his speech came out as a disgusting-sounding hiss, and as he spoke, or tried to, saliva dripped from his mouth. However, as disturbed as Tira was to hear and see this man's pathetic attempt at speech, she was even more surprised to learn that she could actually understand him. His muffled speech meant nothing to her, but she could tell the intentions behind his hissing.

Since she was a young child, and being trained to become an assassin, she'd been taught to study her opponent's facial expressions and body movements to determine everything from their next move in combat, to their intentions, to their deepest emotions. This was not a supernatural power; the ability to read your opponent is something any warrior would value, and a skill that many seek to possess. Tira, however, was exceptional in that she had refined this skill to a level that few others have also reached, allowing her to read the thoughts and intentions of people very easily. However, it was not this ability alone which allowed Tira to understand him.

Tira shared a connection with this man. She was a slave, and so was he; and both of them were slaves of an extraordinary magnitude. Although they had only met, this connection existed, and was very strong. This deep bond between them was the majority of the reason that Tira could understand this man when he 'spoke'.

The man's earlier hiss had been an expression of surprise at her surviving the fall, followed by simply stating that he had to kill her. 'Had' to, as if it were his obligation, or occupation. Tira understood fully that this man intended to attack her, but she was far too intrigued by meeting someone so much like herself to fight him just yet. She wanted to speak to this man, even if only briefly.

"Who are you?" She inquired. She did not have fear or concern in her voice; only curiosity. The man hesitated after hearing her words. Eventually, however, he spoke.

**I am the Slave of Vercci.**

"I am the Slave of Siegfried."

**Well met, Slave of Siegfried.**

"Well met, Slave of Vercci."

**I see that you and I share a deep bond. I find that intriguing.**

"As do I."

**My Master's will is that I protect this pit. I cannot allow you to be here. You must leave now.**

"My Master's will is that I search this pit."

The man nodded sincerely. **I understand. Our Masters' orders contradict each other, and a compromise is impossible. I understand if you refuse to leave. However, although I respect that you are following your Master's orders, I cannot disobey my own Master.**

"I understand this, as well."

**Are we to fight, then, Slave of Siegfried?**

"I am afraid that we are, Slave of Vercci. It is regrettable."

**It is indeed regrettable. I fear you may be the only other person like me in the entire world. It was reassuring to know that there was someone else like myself. It will be lonely after you are dead.**

"Oh, don't worry. I will survive this encounter."

**We have spoken much, but done nothing. Let our actions speak for us from now on.**

Suddenly, the single blades on of the man's katars split into three blades each. _Fascinating. A mechanism for making the blades split. Sticking those blades into someone and then splitting them would slice their insides...I doubt that this man is a novice._

The man assumed his fighting stance - one of slithering movements. Tira had seen dozens of fighting styles, but never one like this. She inferred that it was a self-taught style, and tried to prepare for the unexpected, but it was difficult to do such a thing.

Surprisingly, the first thing the man did was fall straight to the ground. He lay in a crouching position, and then suddenly leapt forwards, doing a front flip. Tira leapt back, and only barely avoided this surprising attack. The man landed on his back, but did not seem as if this had been unintentional. He rose up by planting his katars and feet on the ground and then pushing upwards, bringing himself back to a standing position. Tira knew, by now, that she was definitely dealing with a one-of-a-kind fighting style.

Her surprise almost cost her life, for in the next moment, the man followed up with another surprising and bizarre attack. He fell forward again, this time planting his katar into the ground, and performing a one-handed handstand, balacing on just the katar. He shot out his feet and other arm, and Tira once again was only just barely able to react in time and dodge.

The man swung his katars in an arc above his head, and hissed. This action seemed more ritualistic or symbolic than an actual attack, only increasing Tira's confusion further. _His tactic is to use surprise and confusion to get the upper hand on his enemy. Expect everything to be an attack, no matter how bizarre, and stay out of close range until a good opportunity arises. _Tira knew that this would mean letting the man attack her for a long time before a window for attack finally appeared, and that this would mean a lot of chances for him to strike her if she did not dodge fast enough. However, Tira currently saw no other option.

The man hissed and began another odd gait forward, walking with his hips sticking out forward and his back and head arching back. He slashed his katars in an X-shaped path twice, and Tira dodged both swings. At this point, the man slowed down, and eyed Tira. At least, he seemed to be eying her up, despite his eyes being covered. After a moment, he seemed to have reached a conclusion on something. _Has he decided to use a different tactic? Great...that throws everything out the window!_

The man then flipped forward to do a handstand. When he brought his legs down, he did not raise himself upwards again. Instead, he stayed in this position, with his hands and feet on the ground and the front of his body facing upwards...and began to walk!

He moved much faster than Tira would have anticipated, and she backed up again. However, she had backed up too far, and was now against a wall. The man was still rushing straight towards her, and she couldn't go around him. What to do?

Finally, at the last moment, she leapt forward, flying straight over the man. He flipped over, righting himself, and sliced his katars through the air, missing her by centimeters.

The man turned around, and leapt towards her, his katars behind his back. No surprises here, it was a blind rushing attack. Was this the opportunity she had waited for? Tira didn't want to take any more chances. She swung out her ringblade to defect the man's ensuing attack.

Surprisingly, the man did not attack at all the way she had planned. After he landed before her, katars still behind his back, he thrust them forward from behind his sides, instead of swinging them downwards like she had planned, straight through the hole in the middle of her ringblade!

_That's right! Thrusting instead of swinging! Stupid mistake!_

But although the man might have been able to kill Tira right then and there, his current intention was merely to disarm her. He spread his arms apart, scraping his katars along the inside of her ringblade. He then moved his katars along the inner ring, toward her hands!

Tira could afford to lose her weapon, but not her hands. She let go, and tried to perform a kick, but the man lowered the ringblade while still holding it with his katars, and blocked her blow! He then shoved it at her, and the flat side of the blade slammed into her hard, and knocked her down. The man leapt on her faster than she could realize what was going on.

He reared his arm back and prepared to thrust it forward into Tira's head. She gasped in terror. But, when the katar came down, it sliced not into flesh, but into the ground where Tira's head had been one moment ago. She was pinned down, but she could still wriggle her upper body to the left and right. The man made another stabbing attempt, and Tira dodged again.

The man decided to thrust using both Katars this time, and with them spread out at a certain distance, there was no possible way for Tira to dodge. However, without one hand planted on the ground like he'd had before, the man had to raise himself up slightly with his legs. Tira saw an opportunity. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but...

Tira grabbed a hold of the man's thighs, and pulled herself through the gap in between his legs, dodging the two katars that missed her by inches. She got to her feet and leapt for her ringblade, dodging a katar slash from the man as she did so. Once she had her ringblade in hand, she had even more blows to block.

Just as Tira was nearly too exhausted to fight any longer, the man assumed a new stance. He planted his katars flat on the ground, put one foot on the ground behind him, and held the other up high in the air. He hopped from left to right in this stance, and as bizarre as it was, it had its advantages.

However, it also had one very large disadvantage that Tira could see.

As the man hopped towards her, she leapt forward, held her ringblade perpendicular to the ground, and swung it downwards in an arc. It sliced into the man's hands.

The man hissed in pain, and fell over, no longer to support himself on his injured hands. He also let go of his katars. Tira leapt forward and delivered a kick to his chest, sending him flying backward and landing in a corner. He sat limp, and did not move. Tira walked towards him, and he turned his head towards her. The two stared at one another in silence for a moment, and then the man suddenly shot out his arms and legs.

Tira shoved her ringblade forward, the flat part of the blade blocking the man's arms and legs, and pinning him down in the corner. The two of them struggled, until the man seemed to stop. But he had just one last weapon left in his arsenal.

He delivered an extremely strong pelvic thrust that went through the gap of Tira's ringblade, and jabbed her in the stomach.

Tira was knocked back out of both the force of the blow and the nature of it, but not enough to allow the man to break free. He continued his pelvic attack, slamming the crotch guard into Tira's stomach.

_...Only my Master is allowed to do that to me!_

Tira moved back, swung her ringblade back, and then brought the flat part of the blade slamming into the side of the man's face.

With another painful hiss, he now fell limp again.

Tira backed up, and panted and heaved heavily, holding the wound at her stomach.

**...Are you going to finish me?**

"...No."

**Why not?**

"I am forbidden to kill."

**Your Master's orders?**

"...Not directly. But I know it would displease him if I killed."

The man nodded. **I see. You are a good slave.**

Tira had never heard such praise before. "...Thank you. ...Although the one I wanted to hear that from was my Master..."

**...I, on the other hand, am a terrible slave. I have just failed my Master. Now the sanctity of the vault will be violated...**

"We only came searching for information about Soul Edge."

**Information...? Not...the treasure?**

"No, not the treasure."

The man was still for a moment, and then he suddenly began heaving. Tira realized that this was laughter.

"What's so funny?"

**...Nothing...nothing, Slave of Siegfried.**

She paused for a moment. "...There is another reason I'm not killing you."

**Why is that?**

"...I feel the same way you do. That would it be lonely if you were dead."

---

Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy located Vercci's records, and poured over them. However, they were dismayed to find that all of the records were extremely old, and held no information about Soul Edge that they did not already know. Their disappointment was overwhelming.

"We'd need the help of the gods themselves to destroy Soul Edge..." Ivy muttered to herself.

"...The gods...That's it. The gods." Siegfried said.

"What? ...Don't tell me you're so desperate that you're ready to resort to prayer...?"

"If a weapon stronger than Soul Edge currently doesn't exist, we'll simply have to create a stronger one."

"But how in the world are we supposed to do that? And what does that have to do with gods?"

"I know of a temple to Hephaestus, the Greek god of blacksmithing, weaponry, and fire...perhaps it could be possible to ask him to forge us a weapon with which to destroy Soul Edge! A weapon forged from the gods themselves could surely destroy that cursed blade!"

"What makes you think a god will listen to you? What makes you think that this god even exists?"

"If there is a chance, even a slight one, that we could obtain a weapon stronger than Soul Edge this way, we have to try."


	14. Advent of the Vow

The woman sat on a small set of steps leading up to an altar. She was holding her legs to her chest, and resting her head on her knees. She had assumed this position because of how cold it had grown this late at night. Although the cold was nearly unbearable, she would not allow herself to leave where she sat until she had discovered what she was there to confirm.

Recently, she had been finding damage on the inside of the temple. Some of the statues had been smashed, and some of the wall reliefs had been defaced. The most probable explanation was that vandals were visiting the temple at night and causing the damage. A similar explanation was that it was the work of iconoclasts - people who seek to destroy religious icons, symbols, and monuments. If that were someone's goal, however, the woman thought that it would be more practical to destroy the entire temple at once. Minor instances of damage seemed to indicate that it was merely the work of vandals. However, with the life that the woman had led, she considered another possibility.

The temple had been transformed into its current glorious state as a result of her faith. She wondered...if she were to lose her faith, would that mean that the temple would return to the ruinous state it had once been in? She was now just as pious - if not even more so - than she had always been, so she didn't think that this was the case in this particular instance. Could the damage in the temple be a sign from the gods? What were they trying to tell her? Concluding that the only way she would know for sure was to stay at the temple and see for herself, she had decided to stand vigil overnight.

It was very late now, and the cold weather was making her drowsy. She felt herself beginning to nod off, when she was suddenly alerted by a loud noise.

It was a crashing, breaking noise, as if pottery had fallen to the floor and shattered. She knew that now was the time to confirm her suspicions, and see exactly what was causing this.

She stood up, turned around, walked up the small set of steps to the altar, and removed the sword that lay upon it.

---

The statue was of a goddess. She had short hair, and wore only a robe that hung from her hips.

"Hey - watch this!"

The young man swung his sword vertically, bringing it crashing into one of the arms of the statue. The swing did not slice cleanly through the arm, but struck it with enough force to cause it to break off of the statue. It hit the ground and shattered.

"Now she's an amputee!"

The group of young men laughed loudly and rambunctiously, slapped each other on the back, and took a few more swings of ale.

The man who had removed the statue's arm took aim and prepared for another swing, but suddenly stopped, and jerked his head in another direction. Confused by their comrade's action, the others followed his gaze, all looking towards a corner. After listening closely, they heard footsteps echoing through the temple.

"Who the hell could that be? Does anyone actually live up here?"

"If someone does, it's probably some dirty old hermit."

"Heh - if it is, let's rough 'im up!"

The boys all grinned and waited to see who would step out from behind the corner. It was not a dirty old hermit at all. It was a woman, and a beautiful one, at that.

She was wearing a thin white robe that ended just above mid-thigh. It was partially transparent and only covered her left breast, but she was wearing a metallic brassier beneath the dress that covered her breasts, and displayed deep and inviting cleavage. She wore a sash around her waist that pulled the dress tightly to her body, showing off her womanly form. Long blonde hair reaching down to her hips flowed down from her head, which was adorned with a roman laurel head wreath. She was the perfect picture of beauty, and may as well have walked out of any of these young men's fantasies.

All of the boys were instantly attracted to her, but the sword and shield she carried kept them from voicing their attraction. Only one - the same one who had broken the statue's arm off - was brash enough to speak his mind.

"What's a beautiful lady like you doing in a place like this?" He asked with a sly smile. "Are you an angel descending from heaven?"

The woman showed no signs of being affected by his comment, but did seem as if she was restraining herself from doing something. Instead, she responded to him with a question in a calm, clear voice.

"Why are you doing this?"

The boy smirked, and looked back at the one-armed statue. "Oh, this? It's because it's fun!" He took another swing, and this time removed the statue's other arm. When he looked back at the woman, she looked as if she had started to take a step forward, and then stopped. She closed her eyes, and seemed to be thinking.

_They're not doing this for any reason? They're only doing this because they think it's fun? If they had been doing it for religious reasons, or any good reason at all, I might have understood, but-_

"Speaking of fun, why don't you come have fun with us?" The boy asked again with the same smile.

"Leave here now, and never return." The woman said in a stern voice.

The boy looked at her, scoffed, and then began to laugh. He turned to his comrades and laughed louder, and they joined in and laughed as well.

"Aw, now, come on, don't be like that, lady. We were just having a little bit of fun in here. No one cares about these statues of gods everyone's forgotten. It's not like anyone believes in them anymore."

If the woman had seemed like she was restraining herself from doing something before, she now looked like she could barely stop herself.

"...I'm only going to tell you one more time. Leave here now. And don't ever come back." She raised her sword, and pointed it at the boys.

The boy held out his own sword in response. "Hey, don't be a bitch! No one cares about this place, and we're just having fun! If you're gonna be a bitch, maybe we'll have to get rough with you! ...And then..." Another smirk crossed his face, one that gave away the lecherous thoughts in his mind.

"...I have no more patience." The woman said, and began to walk forward.

"...We should go, Actaeon..." One of the other boys said to the one who had done all of the talking so far.

"Shut up! I'm not letting some bitch push me around. Okay, you want to fight? You've got it!"

The young man charged at the woman, his sword raised. When he was within range, he swung his sword at her.

The woman calmly raised her sword, and blocked the blow. Then, before Actaeon had a chance to react, she swung her sword at him hilt-first, punching him in the face with both her fist and the hilt of her sword at the same time. The force of the blow knocked him several feet to the side. Whispers erupted from the other boys.

"What the hell!"

"How can a woman be that strong?"

"She did all that without moving anything but her arm!"

Actaeon scrambled to his feet. "...Sh...shut up!" He shouted to the other boys, and then with another shout, charged at the woman again.

This time, he didn't even get to swing at her. She dashed forward unexpectedly, and slammed her knee into his gut hard. Then she grabbed him by his hair with her free hand and flung him back towards the others.

The boys were amazed at the ease with which this woman was able to throw around their leader, and whispered amongst themselves. Actaeon again told them to be silent, but he did not attempt to charge at the woman once more.

"Please. I don't want to have to hurt you. Just leave, and don't come back. Your parents are probably worried about you and waiting for you."

These words stung the boys, but the woman spoke them without a drop of condescension in her voice. She was genuinely worried for them. This display of selflessness awed them.

"...This place is a dump. I'm not having any fun here. Let's go someplace else." Actaeon spat, getting to his feet again, and turning around to leave. The other boys stayed for a moment, looking at the woman, and then followed their leader.

The woman stood at the entrance of the temple and watched them leave. When they were out of her sight, she let out a long sigh.

_Sophitia...you've changed so much._ She thought to herself with a weak smile. _If I had encountered those boys seven years ago, I would have hurried off in the opposite direction, and might have fainted in fear from the things they'd said. I was such a shy and timid girl back then..._

---

Greece, the birthplace of Cretaceous culture. The people's beliefs were starting to change to the new ways, and the ancient Gods lived on only in their arts and mythologies.

Sophitia was a shy girl who worked in a small bakery in Athens. She had visited a ruined temple in her youth, and ever since, had been fascinated by the mythical world of her ancestors, and cherished all of the old art and myths.

She often prayed to the goddess Pallas Athena, guardian of her town, and embodiment of wisdom and prudent warfare. And her prayers were being heard.

One morning, as she bathed in a forest spring, a dazzling light shined in front of her. The light formed the shape of a man. At first, Sophitia was terrified, but something about the man soothed her, and she quickly became more amazed than frightened.

The man began to speak to her. He told her that he was Hephaestus, the god of the Forge, and one of the twelve Olympian Gods. Sophitia knew right away that he was telling the truth, but was still afraid of what he wanted to do with her.

"Do not fear. I only want you to receive my oracle." The god had said, as if reading her thoughts.

"Among all the weapons that mankind has created, one sword has grabbed the attention of the gods. The sword...is true evil. It was forged through murder and evil acts, and has now transformed into an abomination that sucks up the hatred and pain of its victims to become even more evil and terrifying. Many people deceived into thinking that it can bring them happiness seek this wicked weapon, dooming others as they do. Nothing but disaster follows in this sword's wake. As God of the Forge, responsibility for this weapon falls partially on my shoulders. I want you to find that wicked sword, and destroy it."

The importance of this task was clear, and Sophitia desired nothing more than to appease the gods she cherished so much, but she was filled with self-doubt.

"...But...W...Why me?"

"I learned of you from Pallas Athena; she says you still believe in the Olympians. That is why I chose you. Few others can hear our oracles anymore.

"...I'm just a girl! ...A mere mortal! How can I fulfill such a task?"

"You are not as weak as you think. Do not worry. Come to my temple. I will grant you a mighty weapon to let you can save your kind. And, remember - Athena will always be with you."

Hephaestus vanished in a flash of light, and the spring was as if he had never been there.

Sophitia equipped herself for her journey as best she could, but still had doubts. She left home without telling her parents or even her siblings where she was going; she knew that they would not believe her, and not allow her to go. She arrived at Eurydice Shrine, a temple was designed and constructed by Hephaestus, and the same temple that had invoked her love of Greek mythology. However, the temple was nothing like the ruins she had first seen it in - when she beheld it now, it looked splendid and grand, and not a day old. Hephaestus was there, waiting for her. He told her that it was the power of her faith that had restored the temple.

He bequeathed to her a blessed sword and shield that he had forged just for her - the Omega Sword and the Elk Shield. But Hephaestus did not give her a chance to show gratitude. "Survive your first trial!" he bellowed, and as his voice echoed in the temple. Lightning flashed, and another Sophitia appeared before her! She looked just like Sophitia down to the armor she wore, but Hephaestus controlled her. The mirror Sophitia attacked, and for the first time, Sophitia tasted combat. Hephaestus was easy on her at first, but then the battle became more difficult. However, this actually only served to make Sophitia braver - seeing this alternate version of herself fighting, swinging a sword, and parrying an enemy's blows made her more confident that she could be like that, too. With this reassurance, Sophitia fought hard, and won the match.

"Well done, Sophitia." Hephaestus said, pride for her in his voice. "You will travel the world, and waken the deceived with your sword. Good luck..."

Sophitia was transported to a strange new land, and her journey began.

---

Sophitia had finally tracked down the location of Soul Edge - a Spanish port town, Valencia, said to be home to the dreaded pirate Cervantes. Ominous silence reigned all around - the town seemed to be completely empty. A foul smell hung in the air, and Sophitia felt someone's thirst for blood. "...This has got to be the place..." She thought to herself. The dreaded pirate ship, the Adrian, was anchored nearby. Sophitia felt an evil presence emanating from the Adrian.

She prayed one last time for the gods' protection, and climbed aboard the ship. A strange man holding two gleaming swords waited for her on the deck. Sophitia knew immediately who the man was, and what the swords were. He was the feared pirate Cervantes, and the swords were...

"...Soul Edge!"

"...I have been awaiting you..." Cervantes hissed at her. "I've sensed how clean your soul is...I can't wait...I can't wait to feast on such a pure soul!"

He leapt at her in an almost animalistic way, and began to attack.

---

Sophitia and Cervantes fought a long battle. Sophitia had fought many enemies, but this pirate was by far the strongest. Finally, however, he seemed to be wearing down, and Sophitia made an attempt to use her weapon to destroy his.

"Hephaestus, give me the strength...!"

With this short prayer uttered, she gave a shout, charged at Cervantes, and struck Soul Edge with all her might. A dazzling light encircled the both of them, and electricity sparked between the two swords when they clashed. The wicked sword shattered into pieces.

However, this victory was bittersweet. When the sword shattered, fragments of it flew away from it at amazing speeds. Some of the fragments even traveled into Sophitia's body. She screamed in pain, collapsed, and writhed in agony. It was the most painful thing she had ever endured in her entire life.

Cervantes was enraged. He and the Soul Edge were like one being, and the destruction of one of the swords was like the destruction of half of him. In his fury, he prepared to deal the finishing blow to Sophitia. She saw the sword coming down on her, and shut her eyes tight. Instead of feeling the sword slice into her, she heard the sound of two swords clashing. When she opened her eyes, she saw someone standing in between herself and Cervantes. She concluded that someone must have intervened and saved her life, at least for now, but she didn't have the strength to hold onto consciousness, and passed out.

---

"Amazing. You're still alive. ...Are you awake? ...Can you hear me?"

Sophitia moaned.

"I've removed most of the shards that were embedded in your body, and done what I could to help your wounds, but you're still hanging on to life by a thread. I don't know what else I can do with you. ...Do you want me to take you home? Where is your homeland?"

"...Athens...Greece..."

"I see. In a sense, you helped me destroy Soul Edge. Returning you to your home is the least I can do to repay you."

After these words, Sophitia blacked out again, and did not awaken for weeks.

---

_...And when I recovered my senses...I found myself lying in my bed at home, as if it had all been a dream. A fantastic fairy tale...and that's all that anyone thought it was. No one believed my story. ...Except for Cassandra._ Sophitia smiled as she thought of her sister, and the trouble she later caused. But before she started causing trouble, she was a normal girl, just like Sophitia once had been. After her adventure with Soul Edge, she had tried to return to life as she knew it, just the daughter of a baker, but found it difficult. It wasn't that she had been deeply traumatized by the events with Soul Edge. After going from being a quiet girl to a strong warrior, she had a hard time being her former self again. She started wondering who she really was and what her true self was like. Perhaps it was her delicate mental state at the time that led her to fall so deeply in love with Rothion. _Thinking back, we fell in love and became engaged so fast…_

One day while she was shopping with her sister, she suddenly felt a disturbing sensation - a feeling as if dozens, hundreds, thousands of lives were disappearing, all in rapid succession. The final thought that came to her mind was 'Soul Edge' before she suddenly lost consciousness.

When she awoke, she was being carried in the arms of a handsome man, and wondered if she was dreaming. But it was no dream. Sophitia's sister Cassandra couldn't carry her back home on her own, and asked a nearby strong young man for help. That man was Rothion, a youth who lived in the next city over. Since that moment she awoke in his arms, the two of them had become extremely attracted to each other. It was only a few months until they made the decision to become engaged. Sophitia was extremely relieved to find that Rothion believed her story about Soul Edge, as well. As ancient custom dictated, they visited the Temple of Hephaestus to report their engagement to him, but although they both knew that Hephaestus existed, they were still extremely surprised when he appeared before them!

Hephaestus had appeared before them to deliver another oracle to Sophitia. The remaining blade of Soul Edge was regaining its power, and he needed Sophitia's help once again.

Rothion begged that he be sent in the place of Sophitia. Hephaestus denied his request, but made him an offer.

"Rothion, you are a smith, aren't you? This time it is you who will forge the armor and weapon to protect Sophitia."

Hephaestus gave Rothion a raw shard of sacred iron, and instructed that he forge a sword and shield with it. When the sword and shield were completed, Hephaestus blessed them, and then instructed Sophitia to completely destroy Soul Edge. She pursued Soul Edge once more, purifying lands seized by the Evil Seed.

With Sophitia's oracle in his thoughts, Rothion had put his heart and soul into forging this sword and shield. These weapons served to protect Sophitia from the malice of Soul Edge, as well as to guide her during her quest. Whenever Sophitia used these weapons, Rothion was always alongside her in spirit during her trials and tribulations.

However, despite this, Sophitia's second journey was disappointing compared to her first one. She did manage to stop many people who were corrupted by Soul Edge, but during her journey, she found that someone else had destroyed the demonic sword.

She returned home to Rothion, and they were finally married. Shortly thereafter, they were blessed with two children. They led a happy life once more, but it seemed that Sophitia's peaceful days were fated to always come to an end due to Soul Edge.

One day, a very mysterious customer arrived in Rothion's store. He sold Rothion a particular metal fragment. Rothion thought he had made a good deal, but soon regretted ever purchasing the shard.

When their children found the shard, they suddenly began to fight violently over it. Not only that, but the fragment emanated an aura that caused Sophitia's old wounds to ache.

She deduced that the shards of the demonic sword that struck her so many years ago must have infected her with their dark energy. That was the only explanation she could find for her children's frenzied reaction over a piece of metal.

Directly after these events, two things vanished completely - Sophitia's younger sister, Cassandra, and the original Omega Sword.

---

A woman stood standing before a statue of Hephaestus in his Shrine. She was panting heavily, as she had run the entire distance to the shrine.

"...Why..." She whispered. After catching her breath, she spoke again, this time shouting. "...Why are you doing this to my sister? How can you claim to be an almighty god? Answer me!" She screamed at the statue, her voice reverberating throughout the desolate holy ground. She fell to her knees, worn out from her anger.

It was then that she saw the weapon.

The holy sword blessed by the god of forge. Sophitia and her husband had offered it to Hephaestus after their marriage, placing it back on its altar. Even after all this time, the sword had not lost its gleam, despite being exposed to the elements for four years.

This young woman had been the one to snatch the fragment of Soul Edge away from her sister's children, and now she held it up to the blessed sword. The fragment resonated, and gave off a faint wailing sound - almost as if it was frightened of the holy sword.

She decided then that Soul Edge was still alive. But she could not allow her sister to carry the burden, with a family who depended on her. She decided that she would put an end to the evil sword herself.

She did not trust Hephaestus, but the power to defeat the evil was right before her.

As night gave way to dawn, nothing disturbed the temple's tranquility. However, the young woman, Cassandra, was nowhere to be seen, and the holy weapon was missing from the temple.

---

Sophitia had left on a journey once again, but, for the first time, her journey was not dictated by the gods. This time, it was personal. She was after Soul Edge to free her children from the evil sword's curse, and ensure the safe return of her sister, whom she knew must have left on a journey to destroy Soul Edge on her own behalf. This journey was perhaps the least eventful of all. Sophitia was usually able to sense the existence and location of Soul Edge. But, after several months of journeying, the sensation of Soul Edge's existence vanished all at once. It was as if it had been destroyed, or sealed away. She couldn't sense it anymore at all.

Disappointed, she returned home, and Cassandra returned home soon after. They once again returned to normal life, although they still feared that Soul Edge would rise once again to cause trouble in their lives.

And, ever since Sophitia had returned, she had the faint feeling that Rothion was harboring a secret from her.

---

_I'm sorry, Aphrodite...I wasn't fast enough._ Sophitia thought, as she cleaned up the shattered pieces of the statue's arms. _Come to think of it, the armless form of the statue has an interesting allure. Perhaps it will be better appreciated this way. Future generations will have fun wondering what the arms of the statue had looked like, what they were holding..._

Sophitia smiled at her attempt to turn the situation into something pleasant. _I guess I'm still just a nice little baker girl at heart._

Just as she finished cleaning up the mess, she saw a faint glow out of the corner of her eye. _What? A light? What could be causing that? Are those boys back for more, or...?_

The light was coming from the room with the altar upon which usually sat the Omega Sword. _...Could it be...another oracle?_

Sophitia rushed back to the room which she had been sitting in earlier, and gasped at what she saw.

A dazzling light, slowly forming the shape of a man.

Sophitia gasped, laid the Omega Sword back onto its altar, backed up, and kneeled down.

"...Rise, Sophitia."

Sophitia looked up, and beheld Hephaestus. She rose her feet, trying to remain as dignified as possible, despite her surprise and nervousness.

"Sophitia...I have received a message from Hermes. A group of warriors is headed to this temple. They will arrive early tomorrow. They are in possession of Soul Edge."

"...Soul Edge! ...But, I thought that..." Her voice trailed off. It was naive of her to assume that Soul Edge had been destroyed before. She should have expected this.

"The reason you have been unable to sense the sword is because it's power has been nulled."

"...Nulled? By what?"

"Another sword, of equal strength to Soul Edge, but of opposite polarity. The two swords are currently embedded in one another, nulling each other's power, so that the sword is difficult to sense."

"I see. Does this mean that...the sword is no longer a threat?"

"No. The two swords may be nulling one another, but as long as Soul Edge exists, a threat to the entire world exists."

"These people coming here - what are their intentions?"

"That remains to be seen. Their intensions could be anything. They could be seeking a new host for Soul Edge. I do not know if you previously knew this, but your children are both possible hosts of Soul Edge."

Sophitia felt like a thunderbolt had run through her body. After she received this news, she felt her legs beginning to give way, and it became difficult to remain standing.

"The warriors could wish to kill you and your sister, as you two may be potential threats to their plans. They could wish to attempt to destroy me, the only one who may be capable of creating a sword that can destroy Soul Edge."

"Could Soul Edge kill a god?"

Hephaestus was silent for a few moments.

"...I do not know." He finally admitted. After a few more moments of silence, he continued to speak. "They will undergo the same trial that you once faced, Sophitia."

"...And what is that?"

"They will fight you."

Sophitia's mind flew back to the time when she had to face a mirror image of herself.

"But - Hephaestus, what if their intentions are good?"

"If their intentions are good, then this will be revealed during the battle."

Sophitia knew better than to question a God twice, but, as she had been when she first spoke to Hephaestus, she was nervous. "What if they defeat me?"

"Do not worry, Sophitia. I will be on your side, as will Athena. As long as you fight within these hallowed grounds, you will not be damaged."

Hephaestus began to fade away. Sophitia started to call out for him to stop, but then decided not to.

When Hephaestus was gone, and Sophitia was left all alone in the temple, she wondered what to do. If the warriors were to arrive early tomorrow, she only had a few hours until they arrived. She might as well sleep in the temple, then.

She gave a sigh, and lay down on the floor in front of the altar. She shivered. _So cold..._

Suddenly, the two torches on either side of the altar were ignited. Sophitia gasped, and wondered what could have caused it. The fires were much warmer than they should have been - enough to keep Sophitia comfortably warm, even this late at night with no covering.

**Perhaps this shall help.**

Sophitia had heard the voice in her head. _Oh, that's right...you're also the God of Fire._ She thought to herself.

"Thank you, Hephaestus..." Sophitia whispered, and laid down once again, lulled into sleep by the soothing warmth of the fires.


	15. Fearless Eyes

The gods of Olympus are nearly forgotten, and worshipped by very few. However, a number of phenomena confirm that they once existed, and may still linger on. A beautiful temple standing at the peak of a mountain is one of these phenomena. This temple is said to have been constructed by the God of the Forge, Hephaestus. Around the sides of the mountain spirals a giant stairway, with steps so huge, only the gods could have climbed them.

People constructed a corridor for human use beside the stairway of the gods, for those who came to worship at the mountain peak. A short way up the stairs stands a temple marking the entrance to that corridor, named Eurydice Shrine.

It was this shrine located near the base of the mountain that Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy were approaching. They hoped that they would not have to climb the entire mountain to speak to Hephaestus - and tried not to think about the possibility that he would not hear their words.

As they ascended the stairs and the shrine came into view, they were awestruck by the beauty they beheld.

Through a fantastically decorated gold and white arch, there was a multi-tiered fountain spraying clear water out of a golden vase. Similar arches and more golden vases lined the path to the entrance of the shrine. Where the arches ended, water poured forth from the mouth of beautifully crafted stone griffins, and more water cascaded out of the vases of masterfully crafted stone statues, which in turn rushed down steps to fill a moat-like area around the entrance of the shrine.

The area before the shrine itself was a semi-circular platform, one half if it square in shape, and the other half like a circle. Its tiled floor was just as beautiful as every other aspect of the wonderfully decorated shrine. Siegfried found himself wondering what sort of beauty was to be found _inside_ of the shrine.

Standing at the entrance to the shrine was a very tall grey statue of a bearded man clothed in a short robe and holding a shield and sort sword. Standing before this statue was a woman. She was dressed in a similar robe, although wearing two metal plates covering her breasts, and holding a sword and shield identical to that of the statue behind her. She was an extremely beautiful woman, almost making the shrine around her pale in comparison.

Once Siegfried stepped off of the stairway and into the platform before the shrine, he turned and spoke in a hushed tone to Ivy and Tira. "Stay here. That woman would not be armed if she did anticipate a battle. Although I shall try to avoid that at all costs, it may be unavoidable." Tira and Ivy nodded, and stayed on the stairs.

Siegfried raised his hand in greeting to the woman standing before the statue. "Hello! We come here in peace, and mean no harm. We seek an audience with Hephaestus, if this is possible."

The woman raised her sword and shield, held them together, and bowed her head forward. Siegfried saw her lips move slightly, and a wisp of breath appeared on the cold air before her lips as she spoke, but Siegfried could not hear what she was saying. She almost seemed to be praying to herself, but Siegfried wasn't sure. Perhaps she was bidding them welcome with a custom he didn't know of. She didn't seem hostile at all, so he assumed that it was safe to proceed.

His assumption proved to be very wrong. As Siegfried approached, the woman stretched out her arms, and rotated them around herself sweepingly, as if to stretch or limber up her body. Then, she bent her body forward, placing her hands on the ground, and did a forward flip! When she landed, she preformed another flip, this time propelling herself through the air. Her next jump carried her all the way to Siegfried, and, faster than he could react, she preformed a backflip, staying in place, but kicking Siegfried in the jaw as she flipped. She followed this flip with another, higher one, her foot slamming into Siegfried's jaw again, this time harder, with the force of the blow knocking him back. He landed on his back on the edge of the stairs. If he'd been standing a few inches back, he might have gone tumbling down the stairway.

"Master!" Tira cried.

"So, it's a fight she wants, eh...?" Ivy said with a smirk, unsheathing her sword.

"No! Stay back!" Siegfried said, getting to his feet. "I don't want any meaningless bloodshed. If we can just explain ourselves, I'm sure we can avoid a battle." He turned once again to the female warrior. "Please, listen to us! We don't want to fight!"

The woman seemed unsure for a moment, but did not falter. She leapt forward and preformed a thrust with her sword at Siegfried. When he parried the blow, she spun around to his right and slashed parallel to the ground. The blow struck Siegfried in the side, but his armor protected him from fatal damage.

Siegfried raised his sword to block her next attack, but it would not help him. The woman held up her shield, and, to Siegfried's great surprise, it suddenly began to spark with electricity, and glow with flames. She thrust it hard at Siegfried, and although it struck his sword, the strange attack hit him with an extreme amount of force. The woman spun around, her shield coming into contact with the side of Siegfried's sword this time, knocking it aside. With Siegfried open, the woman preformed an amazingly strong uppercut with her shield that knocked Siegfried upwards into the air.

The uppercut carried the woman into the air, as well, much higher than she should have been able to jump. She spun her body around, swinging her sword as she did so, slashing it across the still-airborne Siegfried. At the zenith of her ascent, she swung her leg in a downward kick that connected with Siegfried's head and sent him crashing to the ground below.

She landed before Siegfried as gracefully as a dove. He groaned in pain, but quickly scrambled to his feet and shuffled away from her.

"...Why..." He paused to wipe blood from his mouth. "Why are you doing this? We don't want to fight!"

The woman seemed confused, and faltered a little, but soon returned to the way she was before. She spun around, slashing her sword as she did, and then preformed a thrust. Siegfried, now more on guard for attacks, was able to block the blows, but did so with great difficulty, as a result of both his wounds and the woman's agility.

The woman preformed a number of attacks at Siegfried with both her sword and her shield. Tira and Ivy called out, offering and insisting to help, but again and again Siegfried refused. Before long, however, even he could see the foolishness in allowing the woman to continue to attack him. _She refuses to listen to me. I'll have to stop her. I'll hit her just hard enough to stop her..._

After assuming a defensive stance, Siegfried surprised the woman by suddenly attacking. He slammed the flat part of his sword's blade into her side, and she went flying through the air.

But, when she landed, she exhibited no signs of pain at all. She quickly leapt to her feet, and charged at Siegfried again.

_...What? What is this woman? How is she able to perform these extraordinary attacks, and take a swing from my sword only to get up as if nothing happened?_

Siegfried defended her ensuing attacks, and when he saw an opening, he attacked her again. The result was the same as before - she would take the full force of a swing from Siegfried's Zweihänder, fly through the air like a ragdoll, but then leap to her feet and dash at him no more than a second later.

_I'll have to strike her harder...but any harder and I'm sure I'll hurt her badly..._"Listen to me! If you don't stop attacking me, I may end up hurting you!" Siegfried shouted, even as he wondered if the woman was able to become hurt.

The woman did not respond. In fact, as the battle went on, it seemed like her resolve to fight grew even stronger.

The woman held her sword vertically. Siegfried swung his sword back, and then slashed it horizontally as hard as he could at her sword in an attempt to knock her sword out of her hands. The woman moved her sword to the side to perform an attack, and Siegfried missed but the blade of his sword slammed into the side of her head!

The woman gave a cry, was flung to the side, and laid there unmoving. Siegfried gasped. _No...! I've killed her! ...If only she would have listened to me, instead...if only I would have thought up something, instead of-_

The woman stirred.

"...What?"

The woman rose up, rubbed her head, and then turned to face Siegfried. She looked surprised as she patted the spot where Siegfried's sword had hit her, but she bore no wound.

_That's impossible! A blow like that would have sliced right into her head! Yet, there is no wound, no blood...Is this woman a god?_

The woman smiled, and closed her eyes. Siegfried saw her lips move again, and was able to make out her words this time. "As long as I am on these grounds...I understand now. Thank you, Hephaestus..."

_...Hephaestus! She really does have the protection of the gods!_

The woman charged at him, moving even faster than before, and seemingly brimming with confidence.

_How can I defeat her? What did she mean by 'on these grounds'? ...Perhaps...she cannot be harmed while on this shrine's grounds? ...Perhaps I can lure her away from here? No, she wouldn't fall for that. ...Fall. Fall..._

Siegfried's eyes darted to the water that surrounded the platform. He gripped his sword tighter with a new plan in mind. He had no idea if it would work, but if there was a chance, he had to try...

As the woman approached him, Siegfried stepped to the side, circling her, until, from where he was positioned, the edge of the platform was located in front of him, and behind the woman. Then, when she charged at him, he pointed his sword at the woman, brought the hilt of his sword to his torso, and thrust it straight out towards her.

Using a slashing weapon in the manner that one would use a rod caught the woman off guard, and she was caught by the blow and flung backwards. She flew through the air, off of the platform itself, and landed in the water!

Siegfried stood at the edge of the platform, looked down into the water, and waited for the woman to resurface.

He waited.

She did not resurface.

An expression of concern came over his face. _...What if she can't get back up? Can't swim? Maybe...maybe it's those metal plates she was wearing over her breasts? Too heavy to swim with?_

Siegfried quickly began taking off his armor.

"Siegfried! What are you doing?" Ivy called out.

"I think she needs to be rescued." Siegfried replied.

"Why the hell would you want to rescue her? She tried to kill you!"

"That doesn't mean that she deserves to die." Siegfried said, before jumping into the water.

The water was extremely cold, but not cold enough to prevent Siegfried from being able to swim through it. The depth of the water was about 12 feet, not as deep as he'd expected, but more than deep enough for someone to drown in. The woman was at the bottom, desperately attempting to swim upward, but doing so in vain. The strain on her face showed that she was nearly out of air.

Siegfried swam downwards towards her, and the woman's eyes became wide. He grabbed a hold of her wrist, and tried to pull her upwards. He had enough strength to wield a giant sword in combat, but dragging a woman upwards while in water was a different matter. She was too heavy. His eyes went down to the metal plates strapped to her chest.

_...Forgive me._

Siegfried reached towards the woman's chest, and began to attempt to unfasten the clasps that kept the metal plates on. Even in the water, he could see her cheeks grow bright red, and she attempted to bat away his hands. When he worked off the plate covering her right breast, exposing it, she tried to slap him, but it was impossible to achieve the force necessary to do so underwater.

Once Siegfried had removed the plates, she was instantly much lighter. He grabbed her wrist, and tried to swim upward. She wasn't offering him any assistance. When he looked back at her, he saw that she was limp, and her eyes were closed.

_...Oh, hell!_

With much effort, Siegfried was able to succeed in bringing them both out of the water, moments before he would have been out of breath. He pushed her up onto the platform in front of a dumbfounded Tira and Ivy. Siegfried laid the woman on her back, saddled her, and placed his hand beneath her breast.

"...Master! What-"

"She has a pulse, but she isn't breathing." He said quickly. "I'm sorry, I don't have time to explain this!"

Siegfried tilted the woman's head back, raised her chin, pinched her nose shut, and then sealed her mouth with his own. He sharply exhaled into her mouth twice, and then pressed his ear to her throat. With a worried look on his face, he placed the heel of his hand just above her left breast, and pushed down on it repeatedly.

Suddenly, the woman spasmed, and then coughed. Water, as well as a small amount of blood and vomit, came out of her mouth. She rolled onto her side, coughing, and wiped her mouth. Then, she jerked her head in Siegfried's direction.

"...What..."

"You nearly drowned. I was able to save you."

The woman seemed mystified at first, and then suddenly much more interested in the fact that her breasts were exposed. She quickly adjusted her garb so that her chest was covered, but still looked embarrassed.

"...Thank you. ...And...I'm sorry." She said in a very humble voice. "...My god...I wasn't sure if...my children..."

"...What?"

She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but I can barely think right now. ...I need to rest, I..."

"It's alright. I understand. Do you live nearby? We could take you home."

The woman's mystified expression returned. _...Who is this man? I try to kill him, and he fights back only with great reluctance. Then, he saves me from nearly drowning, and now he offers to help me..._

"...I live...very close by. You most likely passed by the town I live in on your way here. I live in a smithy with my sister and my..."

The woman tried to speak again, but then she seemed to lose her train of thought. Her eyes slowly began to drift shut, and then she stopped talking.

"...Is she dying?" Ivy asked.

"No." Siegfried said, noting her breathing. "She has merely fallen unconscious. We should take her home."

"...Ha. You sure are a sucker for beautiful women."

"It's not that. While we were fighting, I heard her speak as if she was talking to a god. Not only that, but some of her attacks were...there was something almost magical about them. And you saw her near-invincibility in combat just now. I am sure that this woman is in contact with the gods. It would be in our best interest to make sure she is safe, and have a thorough discussion with her."

"...Humph. Alright, I understand. ...One question, though. How the hell did you bring her back to life by molesting her?"

"She wasn't 'dead', and I wasn't 'molesting' her. ...When I was in the Schwarzwind, there was a time when a friend of mine nearly drowned. Another friend revived him using the technique I used just now. His father was a doctor, and had taught him the technique. In turn, he taught the rest of is how to perform it. It has an extremely low success rate, but it's all you can do for someone who has stopped breathing. It is seldom heard of, but it has actually been in practice for hundreds of years."

After hearing Siegfried's explanation, Tira seemed to breathe a long sigh of relief.

Siegfried had put his armor back on, and hoisted the woman over his shoulder. "I think I saw the smithy of which she spoke in the town we passed through earlier. ...Come. Let us take her there."


	16. Frustration and Relaxation

Siegfried laid the woman down in what he presumed was her bed.

They had found the smithy of which she spoke with relative ease. It had been awkward to carry a woman's body through the streets of a town, but, luckily, no one had stopped them. When they had reached the smithy, they knocked on the front door, but there was no reply. A harder knock again yielded no replies, but did open the door - the lock seemed to be broken. From there, it was merely a case of finding the nearest bedroom and laying the still-unconscious women down in a bed.

As Siegfried laid the woman down, he noticed that her body was shivering. _Blast. How could I have overlooked something like this? She fell into that cold water, and her garments are still wet - she must be freezing._ He knelt at her side and placed his hand on her forehead. _...Her temperature is not good... If she stays in those wet clothes..._He turned to Ivy and Tira.

"She's shivering. Her temperature isn't normal. It's probably a result of her clothes being wet and cold. She needs to get out of her clothing, or her condition could become worse."

Ivy scoffed. "Right. What will you think up an excuse for next? 'Oh, her heart is beating too slow, I'll need to massage her chest for her to survive'."

"Don't joke. Her life is in danger." Siegfried said to her in a low voice that was practically a growl.

Ivy was intrigued that she had touched a nerve by implying that Siegfried was acting towards perverted goals, didn't think that it was worth it to tease him if it would cause her to look like she was being childish about a serious situation. "...Fine. Have your way with her, I don't care. I'll be waiting in another room."

Ivy turned and left the room. Siegfried turned towards Tira.

"...Tira...I hope you understand."

Siegfried now noticed that Tira's shoulders were sagged, and her look was downcast.

"...Don't worry. ...I'm used to it by now."

After these words, she simply turned and walked out of the room, leaving Siegfried alone in the room with the unconscious woman.

_'Used to it by now'...? What does she mean by that? Does she think I'm a perverted lecher, too? ...Or have I been...mistreating her? ...Whatever the case, I don't want any foul feelings between her and I. As soon as I'm done with this woman, I should talk to Tira and clear the air between us._

Siegfried turned to the woman, and began to remove her clothing. He tried not to enjoy it, but failed. He tried to keep his eyes only on her face, but this only seemed to make things worse - she was beautiful, incredibly beautiful. Even when she was unconscious, shivering, and had her hair matted down, she was still the most beautiful woman Siegfried had ever seen. He hadn't noticed her beauty until this point, as before he had only seen her as a potential threat, an enemy, and then someone in need of help. But, now, as he kneeled before her, he saw her in a completely different light. His eyes drifted to her naked breasts. They weren't as big as Ivy's, but they had a nicer shape. His eyes then slid up and down the rest of her body. She had a few scars here and there, most likely from battles, but otherwise had a perfectly shaped and attractive body.

_...What am I...doing? I'm not supposed to be doing this...I resent what Ivy and Tira think of me, but now I'm proving them right...when did I turn into this sort of person? Was it when I first met Tira, and started being openly sexual with her? Was it when Ivy joined me, and paraded her body in front of me every day? Is it something that has happened gradually as a result of those two women? I've always detested the sort of person who things these kinds of thoughts. Some believe it to be normal, but I find it disgusting. ...Yet, here I am, acting in the same ways I always vowed not to...Am I fit for redemption in this state? The way I am now?_

Even as he thought these things, he wasn't able to stop his eyes from roving across her body. They moved of their own accord, despite his pleas. The new admiration he had obtained for the female body was too strong to be overcome by his self-discipline.

Siegfried finally managed to return his mind to business, but not for long. _...Removing her clothing has helped her, but she needs to be dried off. _He took a nearby blanket in his hand. _...I'm not doing this because I'm a pervert. I'm doing this to help her. _He began to pat down her body with the blanket. His heartbeat and breaths became faster. He felt his pants become tight as his dick grew harder. _It's not my fault. I can't help it. She's got such an amazing body..._He patted down her entire body, guiltily enjoying every moment of it. By the time he was finished, he had begun to sweat.

_...This is much better, but she needs to be warmed. When someone's body is dangerously cold, the best thing to do is huddle against them to warm them with the natural heat of a human body._

Much to his disappointment, Siegfried's mind began to wander again. _...I would be honored to be the one with the privilege of warming that body. It would be so nice to hold that body, so nice to lay with her and-_

_No! What am I thinking? I'm doing it again. I must stop this._

_I'm all alone in a room with a beautiful naked woman. I could do whatever I wanted to her. In fact, the only other two people who know I'm in here probably expect me to do just that. No one would ever know if I put my hands on her breasts right now and-_

_...No, no! How can I think these things?_

Siegfried quickly rose, and began to wrap the woman's body in the blankets of the bed.

_What have I become? What sort of a monster am I now? That I would think these things about a sickly woman I'm supposed to be helping?_ In his dire search for any sort of reason to excuse himself, something came across Siegfried's mind.

_**"...I place my curse upon you, you who struggle to escape the sword..."**_

_...The curse. That's it. The curse. It must cause deterioration of one's mind and morals, or cause one's dark side to emerge. That's it. That must be it._

The noble side of Siegfried chastised him for using something to excuse his foul thoughts instead of accepting the blame himself, while the side of him that was worried for his mind took comfort and solace in finding a possible reason for his thoughts.

_...I have no way of knowing whether it is or the curse or just me, so I suppose I shouldn't use the curse as a scapegoat...but it would explain a lot._

Siegfried realized that he had spent far too long in this room. It undoubtedly must have seemed heavily suspicious to Ivy and Tira. He placed one last blanket on the woman, and then placed his hand on her forehead. _...Good. Her temperature returning to normal. She will be all right._

He exited the room through the door Ivy and Tira had gone through, reaching an area that struck him as a dining room. Ivy was plopped down in a chair with her feet up on a table, as if she owned the very home she was sitting in. Tira was leaning up against a wall, looking down.

"...Well, you sure took your sweet time." Ivy muttered. She had uttered her words just loud enough for Siegfried to hear, but he pretended he didn't hear them. He turned to Tira.

"...Tira."

"...Yes, Master?"

"I want to...speak with you outside."

"...Alright."

Siegfried looked out of the corner of his eye in Ivy's direction. She was looking away from them, but she had a smirk on her face, as if she knew a hilarious joke, but was keeping it to herself. Siegfried ignored her, and he and Tira exited the smithy through the back entrance, entering into a small grassy area that would give them some privacy.

Tira leaned up against the side of the smithy, still looking away. Siegfried followed suit and leaned up against the side of the smithy beside her, hoping that it would be seen as a friendly gesture. If Tira thought so, she didn't show it.

Siegfried gathered his thoughts, and tried to think of what to say. "...Tira, what did you mean when you said-"

"I'm sorry!"

"...What...?"

Tira turned to Siegfried, and he could see tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

"I know I've been a bad slave. I know I haven't been able to serve you very well. I've been trying - honestly, I have! ...But, there just haven't been many opportunities to show you how hard I've been trying!"

"...Tira..."

"I guess you've rejected me and have been using other women because I'm such a bad slave. ...But, if you used me more often, then maybe I could be a better slave. ...Not that I'm trying to say it's your fault! I'm not trying to say that! ...But...it would help so much if you used me more often. Please, Master...use me...give me more opportunities to serve you better..."

Siegfried smiled weakly. "...I see...Tira, I had no idea I was making you feel that way. I'm sorry. I wasn't upset with you, and I wasn't rejecting you. You've been a good companion, in many different ways. I'm sorry that I haven't been giving you enough attention, or providing you with enough opportunities to prove your worth. If it's any consolation, I think you've proved your worth many times over by now. Right now all I can do is tell you that I'm sorry, but I'll be more considerate of you in the future, Tira."

Tira looked up at Siegfried with her big purple eyes, which were sparkling from the tears that were almost seeping out of them. Her lower lip began to tremble slightly, and then she suddenly wrapped her arms around Siegfried and pressed herself close against him.

"...Th...thank you, Master..."

Siegfried smiled, and stroked the back of her head. "...You're welcome, Tira." The two of them enjoyed a moment in each other's arms, and, for a short while, it felt like they were the only two people who existed.

"...Well, I hate to break up such a charming little love fest..."

Siegfried and Tira jerked their heads in the direction of the voice.

"...But, our sleeping beauty has awakened." Ivy finished.

She slipped back into the smithy. After a few moments of feeling slightly awkward, Siegfried and Tira followed her.

The previously unconscious woman was sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table. She was still draped in the blankets Siegfried had wrapped her in - he guessed that she had chosen to investigate the matter of strangers in her house before searching for clothing. Her hair was still matted down from its previous wetness, and she looked somewhat sickly. _…But that doesn't stop her from looking beautiful. _Siegfried noted, with subsequent guilt at his thoughts.

"Who are you?" She asked them. It was the first time she had spoken out of a moment of danger, and Siegfried noticed for the first time how melodious her voice sounded. _Why am I...paying so much attention to things like this?_

"First, let me know your name." Siegfried said, wishing for something to address her by. At least, he tried to convince himself that this was the case, and that he did not simply wish to learn what this beauty's name was.

The woman seemed a bit annoyed by that question, as if she thought that she were the one who deserved to be receiving answers, but answered Siegfried's question nonetheless. "...My name is Sophitia Alexandra."

Siegfried felt a chill as the syllables of her name spilled forth from her lips. ..._Sophitia. Her name is just as beautiful as she is._

Siegfried nodded. "I am Siegfried Schtauffen. This-" he gestured towards Tira, "is Tira, and this woman here is Isabella-"

"Ivy." Ivy said, injecting her preferred alias into Siegfried's sentence.

"...Valentine." Siegfried finished. "We are searching for a way to destroy Soul Edge. We came here wondering if there was a possibility that Hephaestus would be able to render some form of assistance to us."

"I see." The Sophitia said. She looked down slightly, obviously still bearing some shame from her actions at the shrine. "...I suppose it's my turn to explain myself now. Last night, I received an oracle from Hephaestus - he knew that you sought him, but feared that you might seek him for malevolent purposes. He sent me forth to test you."

"Test?" Ivy blurted out. "You call that a test? What does trying to kill someone have to do with finding out their intentions?"

"D-don't mock Hephaestus like that!" Sophitia shot back, flustered. "He must have had good reason to ask for the test that he did. His reasoning is probably beyond what we mortals can understand, anyway."

Ivy scoffed. "Well, if you ask me, this god of yours-"

"_No one asked you, Ivy_." Siegfried said slowly to Ivy in a stern and cold tone of voice. Ivy looked for a moment like she might go on talking just to spite Siegfried, but decided she'd rather get on with business.

"...I apologize for the trouble I've made you go through." Sophitia said. "I was afraid of defying my god by ceasing to test you, and I was worried for my children..."

Siegfried was thunderstruck. _...Children. She's a mother. That means that there must be a father...there was a man who...That's right. She mentioned something about her children before she fainted at the shrine. How could I have forgotten? ...I can't believe that a man..._

"...Is something wrong?"

Siegfried realized that his disappointment must have shown on his face. "...No. I was merely curious - why were you worried for your children?"

"Hephaestus told me that...they are potential hosts for Soul Edge."

"Why is that?"

A sad smile formed on Sophitia's face. "So far, only four people have believed the story. No one else does...so it's a story I don't often tell."

"If it involves Soul Edge, then I must ask...no. If it would bother you, then you don't have to tell us." Siegfried realized that it was his attraction to the woman that had made him change his mind and tell her not to do something that would bother her. It's getting in the way now. I can't let this keep happening.

"...It's...all right. I'll tell you." Sophitia said, putting some of Siegfried's concern to rest. "...A few years ago, Hephaestus sent me on a journey to destroy Soul Edge. He sent other warriors, as well, but none of them reached their goal...but me. I encountered Cervantes in Valencia, and aboard his ship the Adrian, we fought. I managed to destroy one of the blades of Soul Edge."

"_You what_?" Siegfried and Ivy leaned forward in shock. Since their lives were so deeply intertwined with Soul Edge, meeting someone who had been influential in the events of their lives intrigued them greatly. Even Tira was surprised to learn whom she was standing a few feet away from.

"So...you...believe me, then?" Sophitia asked, almost as surprised as they were. Enjoying having an audience that believed her, she continued. "...When I shattered one of the blades, some of the fragments of it became embedded in my body."

_...So, those scars were from Soul Edge..._Siegfried realized.

"...The fragments poisoned my body with Soul Edge's evil. When I gave birth to my children, they were infected, as well. I have known that this gives Soul Edge a hold over them, but recently I learned that this also makes them potential hosts for Soul Edge. It was my concern for them that caused me to fight for longer than I needed to."

"...But what happened to Cervantes? Did you kill him?" Ivy asked, suddenly seeming much more interested in Sophitia and her story.

"No. I didn't. It was..." She was silent for a moment. Then, she looked down. "...I don't even know her name..."

"...Whose name?"

"The name of the woman who came to my rescue, defeated Cervantes, and carried me home. I have no idea who she was, or where she is now. All I remember about her was that she was an Asian woman clad in a red bodysuit."

"What...!"

This sudden expression of surprise from Ivy surprised the others. Ivy's eyes were darting back and forth, as if she was desperately trying to see something clearly, but could not.

_An Asian woman in a red bodysuit...could it be...her? The same one who told me that she once fought Cervantes, and that I was his daughter? It must be the same woman...!_

"Ivy? What is it?"

"...Nothing that you need to know about."

"Do you know the Asian woman that-"

"Maybe. I don't know." Ivy snapped, interrupting Sophitia. "I don't really want to talk about it. ...Go on."

Sophitia seemed bothered, but continued speaking. "Well, that's really all I have to say. Although I am sure that we will have many questions for one another, and many things to share. Please forgive my current appearance, and again, please forgive me for the fight at the shrine."

"It is of no consequence. Do not worry about it." Siegfried said.

They heard the sound of a door opening, and then a man's voice.

"That's odd, I thought I fixed this lock."

"Ah! Rothion is home." Sophitia said. A delighted look formed on her face, and happiness seemed to emanate from her.

_...I am willing to bet that this 'Rothion' is her lover..._Siegfried thought.

"Was my family home when you arrived?" Sophitia asked.

"No; the house was empty."

"I see. They must have been out shopping, or something along those lines. Please forgive me; I might need to spend a bit of time with them explaining where I was last night, and who you are."

"It's alright."

The door to the dining room opened, and a man stepped through. He had short, dark hair, and brown eyes. He was powerfully built, but not overly muscular, and his skin was tanned - most likely results of working over a forge many hours a day. He was clad in simple clothing. He seemed like an even-tempered man, as he was registering only surprise and not anger at the strangers in his home and his wife's odd state of dress.

"...Sophitia." He said, unnerved but calm. "Who are...these people?"

"Don't worry, Rothion. They're not here to harm us. They're here seeking help from Hephaestus."

"I see. ...But, why are you...?"

"There was a...misunderstanding, and I nearly drowned, but this man saved me." She said, gesturing at Siegfried.

Rothion looked at Siegfried, and an odd look slowly formed on his face. Siegfried knew exactly what the man was thinking. _She nearly drowned, now she's wearing blankets, she must have had her clothing removed, which means..._

_...You saw my wife naked._

Rothion quickly looked away, not wanting to dwell too long on this unpleasant thought.

"Sophie!" Called out another voice. Siegfried realized that Rothion was not the only one to have returned home. She stepped out now, and Siegfried saw her. She looked somewhat similar to Sophitia, but with shorter hair and a more youthful, lively appearance. She seemed like the type that was always bubbling over with energy.

She dashed past Rothion, weaved around Siegfried and Ivy, and wrapped her arms around Sophitia.

"Sophie! I was worried when you didn't come back last night. I heard that some boys were going up to the temple and causing trouble. I was afraid that they..."

"Oh, Cassie, don't worry. You know I can defend myself. And besides...after last night, I don't think they'll be going back there anymore!"

The two of them shared a laugh together, and then Siegfried heard yet more voices from behind Rothion.

"Mommy!"

Two children ran into the room now, one a little boy, and one a little girl. Not expecting to see strangers, they were surprised when they nearly crashed into a tall, imposing woman standing in their dining room. They looked up at Ivy in fear, and she looked down at them with distaste.

"...Boo." Ivy said to them.

The children squealed and went running to the arms of their mother. "Mommy, who are these people? They look scary." The girl said.

"Don't worry, dear. They're friends. They're here to see Hephaestus." Sophitia said, speaking in the gentle tone of voice that one uses to simplify things for a child.

"They probably won't get to talk to him. He doesn't even talk to you anymore." Said the boy.

"Patroklos, you shouldn't say such discouraging things. And, besides, I happened to speak to Hephaestus just last night."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He told me to wait at the Shrine for these people."

"Oh, so that's where you were last night!"

"We missed you, mom! We thought you might have left again!"

"You're not gonna leave again, right, mom?"

At these questions, Sophitia's eyes went to Rothion's. They both shared a gaze that Siegfried could not interpret, and then Sophitia turned back to her son.

"...I've told you, I can't promise that I won't leave again."

Rothion looked away. The action did not seem particularly angry, but Siegfried sensed that the man was harboring anger for some reason or other. _If she were my wife, I would not be happy if she left, either._

"Why do you look like you just took a bath?"

"I fell into the water at the temple. Patroklos, Pyrrha, I really should be paying more attention to our guests. Run along and play now, alright?"

"Okay!"

The two children let go of their mother, took one last fleeting glance at the odd-looking strangers in their house, and then ran off, whispering to one another and giggling.

Siegfried was uneasy. The Sophitia he was seeing now was so much different than the one he had fought at the temple and had taken out of wet clothing. This Sophitia was a wife, a sister, a mother. A family woman, who considers her husband's thoughts, has a nickname for her sister, and explains things to her children in simple terms. This didn't seem at all the same woman who had been lying on a bed naked a few minutes ago. _This woman is a person with a family and a personality. And when she was laid before me, I looked at her and thought about her like she was an object for my pleasure_. Siegfried felt sick. He nearly felt like he was going to throw up.

_...What a horrible man I am._

"So, are we going to be getting to Hephaestus anytime soon?" Ivy asked, irritation discernable in her voice. Siegfried wondered if Ivy had been annoyed by the sight of Sophitia's family, since she hadn't had the luxury of a happy childhood.

"I'm sorry." Sophitia said. "I thought we would talk a bit more, first, but if you really are in a rush..."

"I think we have some time to spare." Siegfried said.

" 'Every moment we spend idle is a moment that danger approaches us'. " Ivy said, mimicking Siegfried's voice.

"That's _enough_, Ivy." Siegfried said to her in the tone he reserved only for the moments when she was being the most troublesome. Ivy looked like she might lash her snake sword at Siegfried for speaking to her like an unruly child, but once again chose to remain silent.

"...How are you feeling, Sophitia?" Siegfried asked. "You were in bad shape earlier. I did all I could for your condition, but I don't know how much I've helped you."

"I'm sure that I would be a lot worse off if you hadn't helped. I'm feeling weak, though...I don't think I could make the trip to Hephaestus' temple in my current state."

"I see." Siegfried said. A quick glance out the window showed that the sun was setting. "We can wait a little longer. You can recover tonight, and we shall see Hephaestus tomorrow."

Sophitia nodded. "Thank you for your patience."

"It's nothing."

An awkward silence fell over the room. It was broken by the sound of Tira's stomach growling.

"Oh, are you hungry?" Sophitia asked. "I will prepare dinner."

---

Siegfried, Tira, Ivy, Sophitia, Cassandra, and Rothion were seated at the dinner table, but this time, there was much less tension, and they were eating a meal. Sophitia, whom had now changed into more appropriate clothing, and Cassandra had baked a quick dinner, much of which involved the usage of bread. Patroklos and Pyrrha were eating separately, as subjects not for their ears were likely to come up during dinner discussion.

Sophitia began the discussion by telling Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy more about herself and her past journeys. They had all been to many of the same places and fought many of the same opponents, and having these things in common gave them much to talk about. For example, Sophitia had once encountered 'Rock', the enormous man whom Tira had defeated at the Arena. Sophitia was responsible for helping the man reach a revelation that adjusted his life's course. It was this coincidence and many others that the group took pleasure in talking about. When Sophitia had told them everything relevant about herself, she decided to ask them to do the same.

"So, Siegfried." She began. "Would you like to tell us more about yourself?"

Siegfried was both prepared and unprepared for that question. He knew that it was going to come up, and that there were some details about himself that would need to be revealed, but was not anxious at all to talk about it.

"...It's...a story difficult for me to tell..." He began.

"Oh, that's all right. If you don't want to-"

"No." Siegfried interrupted. "...I think you should know."

He folded his hands together, and looked at them in concentration. Finally, when he had found the best way to explain himself, he spoke.

"...I was also in Valencia and aboard the Adrian on that day that you were." He began. "Although, I arrived what must have been shortly after you left. When I arrived, I found the corpse of Cervantes. It...reanimated, somehow."

"Cervantes was not defeated?"

"I'm not sure myself. Perhaps Cervantes was defeated, but came back. Whatever the case was, I defeated him. Afterwards, I...I was seduced by Soul Edge, and became a host for it."

"A host! The only hosts I've heard of in recent years were Cervantes and the Azure Knight."

Siegfried slowly nodded. Sophitia's eyes widened as she realized that he was implying.

"...You were..."

"Yes. I was the Azure Knight."

Sophitia, Cassandra, and Rothion all registered shock at this surprising and disturbing news. Tira and Ivy had both known it for a long time now, but reminders of it came infrequently, and it was almost equally disturbing for them to think of Siegfried as his devastating past form.

Siegfried relayed, in abbreviated form, his ordeal as the Azure Knight, highlighting the important moments, and elaborating on his quest for redemption. His air of dignity and inner pain did most of the talking for him on the last subject.

Although all parties sitting at the table were interested in hearing Siegfried's story, even if they'd heard the majority of it before, Sophitia was the most interested. Her 'job' at one point had been to seek those corrupted by Soul Edge and stop them, after all. Not only that, but she was very interested in learning what life was like as a host of Soul Edge, that being a potential fate for her own children.

"...That's such a moving tale, Sir Siegfried." Sophitia said. "I never thought I would meet someone more touched by Soul Edge than myself. I wish you the best of luck on your quest for redemption. You will be in my prayers."

"Thank you."

"And, whom else do I have the pleasure of sitting with? ...You, Miss Ivy? What's your story?"

Ivy had been the least interested in anything that anyone had to say thus far, most of the time not even looking in the same direction as the rest of the group. At Sophitia's words, she slowly rolled her head in her direction, and spoke.

"If you're expecting me to tell you the story of my life, sorry. I don't feel like it, and most of it is private. Let's just say I have several very good reasons for destroying Soul Edge, and leave it at that." With this, she turned away again.

"...I see. I will respect your wishes for privacy, miss." Sophitia said, choosing to return Ivy's coldness with politeness and formality.

"No formal titles, please."

"...As you wish, Ivy. ...And, what about you, Miss Tira?"

Tira glanced at Siegfried, as if to ask permission to respond to someone who was addressing her. When Siegfried didn't return her glance with one that was especially significant, she replied.

"I am Master's slave!"

Sophitia stared at Tira, blinked a few times, and then turned to Siegfried, hoping for a better explanation.

"Her...'title', I suppose, is my servant. However, I prefer to think of her as a traveling companion."

Tira seemed hurt by Siegfried's words. He noticed this, leaned towards her, and whispered into her ear.

"...That's because you're more to me than just a servant."

The blush that came to Tira's cheeks was her response.

Sophitia raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. "We spent such a long time talking. It's gotten very late, hasn't it? Perhaps we should rest for our trip tomorrow." The others nodded in agreement. "I'm afraid our house isn't big enough to accommodate all of you. There is an inn nearby that you can stay at, however."

"That will do."

Sophitia rose, and the rest of the group did, as well. "You're all such interesting people. It was wonderful getting to know you all better. I hope you enjoyed it, too."


	17. Kneel, For A God Stands Before You

Siegfried, Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia were standing in the middle of a temple built by a god.

It was the temple that Hephaestus had constructed at the peak of a mountain in ancient times - but it didn't look a day old. _The same as Eurydice Shrine, except this one is even more beautiful. _Siegfried thought. _And it is Sophitia's faith that caused these temples to appear this way...amazing._

The four of them spent a few moments in awe of the temple. Sophitia revered it the most, not because of its beauty, but because of the respect she had for the one whom had made the temple.

As usual, Ivy was the first to break the silence. "...So, just how are you going to get this god of yours to show up, anyway?"

Sophitia seemed disheartened. "...I've never summoned Hephaestus before. In the past, he has always chosen to appear before me of his own accord, never because I beckoned him forth. I'm...not confident that I can summon him."

"Then why are we even here?" Ivy demanded.

"We're here because we don't know if it's impossible yet." Siegfried explained.

Sophitia was standing before a short set of steps that led up to an altar in the middle of the temple. She was looking down, as if in thought, trying to determine how to call Hephaestus. Finally, she seemed to have an idea of how to do it.

Sophitia knelt down, clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.

"Hephaestus, please hear me. The people who seek you are here. I have spoken with them, and deem their aspirations to be pure. They seek an audience with you; they wish you to assist them in the permanent destruction of Soul Edge. Please, heed my call!"

Everyone waited anxiously after Sophitia had spoken her prayer. They weren't sure how long it would take for Hephaestus to reach them, if he intended to do so at all, so they weren't sure how long they would be waiting. As it turned out, they did not have to wait very long at all.

Gradually, a dim light began to shine on the stand where the altar stood. The light was barely visible, but seemed to be floating in front of the altar. It sparkled slightly, and after striking the four mortals as being an amazing phenomenon, it struck them as being beautiful. The light grew larger in size, and brighter. At its brightest, the four almost needed to squint.

The dazzling light continued to grow in size to the height of a man, eventually changing in shape to the form of a man. Then, the brightness of the light faded, and as it did so, the form took on the appearance of a man. They all knew who they beheld – Hephaestus, God of the Forge.

Hephaestus was not handsome. His skin was wrinkled, his ears and eyes were big, and his nose was large and crooked. He had pockmarks, and an odd lump on his lower lip. He had a large Adam's apple, and a long neck. Not only this, but his legs were somewhat misshapen, and he carried in his right hand a cane to help him walk.

Hephaestus - the only ugly god, and the only crippled god.

On the long, boring march up corridor leading to the temple at the peak of the mountain, Sophitia entertained Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy by telling them the myth of Hephaestus. She made sure to inform them that, after thousands of years, the exact story had been forgotten, so she could not be entirely sure that she was telling them the exact story. Some versions of his myth claimed that he was born with the defects - others claimed that his disfigurements were results of being tossed out of Olympus some time after his birth. But, his appearance did not stop him from becoming an extremely skilled blacksmith, the husband of the Goddess of Beauty, or from obtaining the respect of the other gods through the many useful items he forged for them.

Despite Sophitia's explanation of Hephaestus' appearance and warning not to be shocked by it, Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy were still surprised. The sight of an actual god was amazing, but the additional sight of a god actually being ugly or deformed was amazing in a different way.

Hephaestus may not have looked handsome, but there was no doubt at all that he looked like a god. He was very tall, at least eight feet in height, and although most of the light was gone now, he gave off a faint glow, and even had an air that suggested godliness. He was clothed in a robe like the statue of him at the Eurydice Shrine had worn - although that statue was a little more flattering in appearance.

As Hephaestus had begun to manifest himself, Sophitia had taken a few steps back from the altar, and then kneeled. Siegfried now kneeled as well. He did not do so merely to imitate Sophitia; he had knelt of his own accord, in reverence and respect for what stood before him. Tira saw what her master did, and imitated him. Even Ivy, the least likely of them to show respect to anyone, lowered herself to one knee, and bowed her head.

"Rise." Hephaestus said, in a tone of voice that was not commanding, but powerful.

The four mortals rose and looked up at Hephaestus. There was a moment of silence, and then Sophitia spoke.

"Hephaestus, thank you very much for honoring us with your presence."

Hephaestus nodded slightly, but even such a small gesture seemed monumental when coming from a god. "It is...unheard of, for a mortal to summon a god. If an abomination such as Soul Edge were not involved, then I most likely would not have come. But this is a matter that warrants my attention, for Soul Edge is not only a creation of the forge, my realm, which makes it my responsibility, but also threatens to destroy things that are of the other gods' realms."

Hephaestus surveyed his audience. "Who is the leader among you? Come forward." Siegfried stepped forward. Hephaestus looked down upon him. "You represent your group's interests, do you? Tell me your name, and your goals here today."

Siegfried took a long breath, and began. "...Greetings, Exalted One. I am Siegfried Schtauffen, formerly the Azure Knight, and formerly a host of Soul Edge. I know that your strength is great, Mighty Hephaestus, and that your skill and wisdom must be equally great. I have sought an audience with Your Greatness in hope that you can grant me assistance in my quest to destroy Soul Edge, totally and completely, once and for all. With your wisdom, I am fully confident that you will be able to assist me. Your assistance will be mutually beneficial to mortals and gods alike, and will enable you to avoid any unpleasant stains on your reputation as God of the Forge."

Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia stared at Siegfried with varying reactions. They all knew that he was a serious and formal man, but to see him delivering such a business-like speech was like seeing a different side of him. There were also several intriguing - and some would say bold - aspects of his speech that they knew could either help them, or doom them.

First, Siegfried had spoken to Hephaestus with constant flattering titles. This was the way that gods were addressed in ancient times. This could be seen as a gesture respectful of the time that the gods came from, or could be seen as far too much of an attempt to flatter him.

Second, he had wasted no time in revealing his largest secrets to Hephaestus. Knowing that Siegfried was previously the Azure Knight and a host of Soul Edge could lead Hephaestus to have second thoughts about providing assistance to him. However, establishing a sense of having nothing to hide from the very beginning could be beneficial.

Third, he had told Hephaestus that he was confident that he would be able to assist him because Hephaestus was wise, so if Hephaestus did not find a way to help Siegfried, then he would look very unwise. This would give Hephaestus more incentive to help them - but a god that feels like he's been made a fool of is the most dangerous kind of god.

Last, Siegfried had closed his speech by reminding Hephaestus that riding on the entire ordeal was his very reputation. Hephaestus could choose to interpret this closing comment as a friendly reminder - or as a threat.

That Siegfried was able to concoct such a speech so flattering yet so respectful, so friendly and yet so manipulative, so open and yet almost like a thinly veiled threat, taught the other mortals present that this man's skills went far deeper than just the ability to swing a large sword around. And, Siegfried was attempting to pull all of this off on a god, of all beings, which spoke volumes of his bravery - or his overconfidence. Siegfried was risking everything on his cleverly-worded pitch, and the others waited eagerly for Hephaestus' response.

As Siegfried spoke, Hephaestus did not show much of a reaction to his words, merely stroking his chin with his hand in thought. Gradually, however, as Siegfried spoke, a smile slowly began to form on the god's face. When Siegfried finished, Hephaestus was wearing a large smirk.

"...Fascinating." Hephaestus whispered. For a short while, he said nothing more, and the others waited tensely. "...No one has spoken to me that way in a long time. ...A long time, indeed..."

Whether Hephaestus was referring to Siegfried's archaic form of addressing a god, or merely his manipulative prose, the mortals present did not know. But Hephaestus did not appear angry.

"...As unconventional as this situation may be, I see the wisdom in lending you my aid. Tell me how you think I may be able to assist you, and I will tell you if it is possible."

Siegfried nodded. "My deepest gratitude. ...I believe that the first thing you should do is attempt to destroy the Soul Embrace yourself."

Hephaestus was silent for a moment, and then stroked his chin in thought again. "My power...is not what it used to be, back in the Old Times. ...But, place Soul Edge before me, and I will channel all of my strength into the mightiest blow I can deliver."

Siegfried slung the satchel that held the Soul Embrace from behind his back. He opened the satchel and slipped it off of the Soul Embrace. The object captured the fascination of everyone in the temple, whether they were a mortal or a god. Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy spent their days hunting for a way to destroy this abomination, but even so, they rarely actually looked upon it. Sophitia moved a hand to her side as she saw it - perhaps feeling pain from an old wound. Hephaestus looked down upon it, as well, but in a way that was more analytical than fascinated.

"Stand back." Hephaestus said.

The mortals wasted no time in complying. They each took a few steps back, and, upon consideration, stepped even further back. They had never seen a god attack with full force, and did not want to underestimate how destructive such a blow could be.

Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet began to vibrate slightly. The ground beneath Soul Edge suddenly began to rise up. It did not bulge in an unsightly way, nor did it break up the tiles of the floor. As if the floor was a surface of water, a new surface gently rose up out of it, forming a platform just large enough for the Soul Embrace to sit upon.

Hephaestus sat upon the altar behind him, and it became evident that it was not an altar, but a stool. Hephaestus leaned forward, the platform holding the Soul Embrace before him.

The cane he held in his hands began to change in shape, too, slowly flowing and melding into a new form. All of its mass seemed to pour together at one end, forming a large 'head' at one point and a short 'handle' on the other end - it was evident that Hephaestus' cane had shifted into a hammer. The hammer's head was so large and its handle was so small that it was almost comical in appearance, but the mortals did not doubt for an instant that the hammer could be used as a weapon to inflict destruction on a level they could never imagine.

After spending a moment contemplating the job before him, Hephaestus raised up the hammer in his hand. He slowly moved the hammer back and forth along the arc that it would travel across to strike the Soul Embrace. Then, when he felt he was prepared, he raised the hammer up one last time, higher than before.

At first, the mortals were merely tense. When they saw Hephaestus raise his hammer up high, some of them considered shielding themselves, and others slightly did so. But when Hephaestus' suddenly gave a thundering yell, flames appeared around him, and his hammer swung downwards in an arc towards the Soul Embrace, there was not a mortal in the temple that did not shield themselves, and brace their bodies as well as they could.

The sound of the strike was like thunder, but far louder. Those who kept their eyes open during this moment saw only a flash of light with flames licking out around it. A shockwave hit them, causing their bodies to slide backwards for a short ways, even if their feet were planted firmly on the ground. A wave of heat also hit them, and although it only lasted for a brief moment, its heat caused the mortals to wonder if they were engulfed in fire.

The sound, the light, the flames, the shock, and the heat were all gone just as soon as they had come. That one brilliant moment had carried so much, but lasted less than a second.

When the mortals peeked out, they looked forward to see a dumbfounded Hephaestus gawking at a short handle in his hand to which no hammerhead was attached.

Hephaestus' head suddenly jerked upwards, and then his other hand shot out. "Schtauffen! Beware! Look up!"

Siegfried looked up in confusion to see a giant hammerhead falling towards him.

His tense, adrenaline-filled body allowed him to react quickly, and he leapt out of the way of the hammerhead only a moment before it slammed into the temple floor, sending tiles and pieces of rock everywhere.

Siegfried scrambled to his feet, staring at the hammerhead in awe. _It completely snapped off. Incredible. But what happened to the...?_

All heads in the room turned to the platform on which the Soul Embrace sat.

It was completely unharmed.

The mortals stared at the Soul Embrace in silence. The same thought was in each of their minds:

_Not even a god can destroy Soul Edge. What hope have we, then?_

The mortals looked up at Hephaestus. He was looking down at the Embrace with a hand on his chin. His current emotions were indiscernible, but it was apparent that he was very deep in thought.

"What a very...interesting...condition." He slowly murmured to himself. "Each of these swords is everything that the other sword is not. These two swords perfectly compliment each other. When locked with one another, they are so perfectly linked together that they cannot undergo any sort of change. What a very, very interesting condition..."

"They can't undergo any change? Does this mean that absolutely nothing can be done to the swords? Are they stuck that way forever?"

"...I cannot be certain of that." Hephaestus said. "They are...quite obviously...immune to physical damage. But there is far, far more to something than merely its physical attributes. Acts of evil made Soul Edge what it is, and purification made Soul Calibur what it is. These two acts had nothing to do with the physical realm, but the realm of good and evil. Perhaps...perhaps the only way to change this abomination...lies within the ways the two swords were originally forged. Allow the sword to commit acts of evil, and Soul Edge would absorb the evil, and become the dominant of the pair. It could even completely overtake Soul Calibur. Likewise, if you were to attempt to purify the Soul Embrace, the purity of Soul Calibur would grow, and it would be the dominant of the pair."

"So, what all that means is that we need to find someone to purify it for us?" Ivy asked.

Hephaestus was still for a moment, and then shook his head. "Yet, I may be wrong. Perhaps these two swords can undergo no changes at all the way they are now. They would need to be separated, first. Although I have no idea how that would be done."

"Separate the swords..." Siegfried muttered to himself.

"And, perhaps, there is yet another thing to consider." Hephaestus said. "In its current state, the sword is neither good, nor evil. It does not pose the threat that it once did."

"So, it's harmless?" Ivy asked.

Hephaestus was still and silent once again. "...Have you ever...wielded the Embrace...as a weapon?"

All heads turned to Siegfried, the one whom had been in possession of the sword longer than anyone else.

"No." Siegfried said. "I never considered that."

"Good. Never - _never_ - wield this as a weapon." Hephaestus warned.

"Why...?"

"...The sword cannot be changed. Thus, if change ever threatens the Embrace, then the world around the sword is changed to the benefit of the sword. My hammer threatened to change the Embrace - and when this happened, it was my hammer that was destroyed. Anything threatening to change the condition of the sword will be torn asunder. That weapon is far more powerful than Soul Edge. The only reason it is less threatening is because it is at the exact middle of the two opposite extremes of good and evil. If that sword were to lean towards the side of evil, then..."

Hephaestus fell silent. The curiosity of the mortals surrounding him peaked, but they did not pry. They could only assume that forcing Hephaestus to talk about a creation of the forge in this manner was causing him shame and embarrassment.

"Can you..." Siegfried began. "...Can you...forge a weapon with properties such that it is suited to destroying or separating the Embrace?"

Hephaestus stroked his chin in thought. "...I can. I can do so."

The morale of the inhabitants of the room soared.

"...But, it would take hundreds of years. And, by then, my power would have waned until it was no more. Alas, we gods are weak now. At the moment when no one longer believes that we once existed, we will die, and that time grows near. Our power fades daily. A sword that could destroy the Embrace? It is possible, but only with far more power and far more time than the gods have left."

The morale of the inhabitants of the room plummeted.

"Is there anything - anything at all, that you can advise us to do?"

Hephaestus closed his eyes in thought. "You have all done extremely well so far in protecting the sword. Continue to do so. Do not use the sword in combat, even under the most dire of circumstances, for then, Soul Edge would overtake Soul Calibur, or be released from it, and the situation could become dozens of times worse than it is now. There are things yet that we still do not know about this abomination. Continue to travel the world and obtain knowledge about it, and continue to follow leads pertaining to Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. In a world as vast as this one, there surely must be a weapon or a place or a person with properties such that can change the condition of the Embrace. If ever possible, attempt to find a way to purify the sword, although I cannot guarantee that this will work. ...With this advice, I have given you all the assistance that I can. I, as well as all of the other gods, will be looking down on you, and supporting you in whatever way we can. I hope that what you have learned here has made your ordeals to reach me worthwhile, and I regret that this is all I was capable of doing for you."

"Thank you, Mighty Hephaestus. You have granted us incredible aid." Siegfried said.

Hephaestus waved his hand. "I give you my blessings, wish you the best of luck, and bid you farewell."

Hephaestus began to shine, as did the detached head of his hammer. When he was engulfed in light, he faded away, his hammer along with him. Even the damage to the temple caused by the hammerhead disappeared, and it was as if he had never been there.

The four of them stood silently for a while, contemplating the experience of being in the presence of a god and obtaining his aid in their quest. Before long, however, the shock wore off.

"...Sir Siegfried."

Sophitia had been the one who spoke. "Yes?" Siegfried said in response.

"What will you be doing now?"

"...I suppose...we will think for a while, and when a new plan occurs to us, we will disembark again."

"...I see..." Sophitia looked down. "...Sir Siegfried."

"...Yes?"

"Would you...allow me to come with you?"

Siegfried seemed surprised, and then smiled. "...To be honest, I was going to ask you to join us." He said. "You have many respectable deeds credited to your name, and you are a warrior of great power. To have you on our side would guarantee a smoother journey."

"I thank you for such praise, Sir Siegfried." Sophitia said with a small bow. "I will discuss my plans with my family, and we can leave as soon as tomorrow."


	18. The Allure of the Forbidden

"Mommy, Mommy!"

Patroklos and Pyrrha dashed into the arms of Sophitia with the enthusiasm found in all children for their mothers.

"Mom's back!"

"What happened, mom? Did you get Hephaestus to show up?"

Sophitia knelt down to reach eye-level with her children. "Yes, I did."

"Wow! Really, mom?"

"What happened?"

Sophitia smiled. "Well, the guests we had last night spoke with him, and he did his best to help them as much as he could."

"Yeah? So now what are they going to do?"

"...Well, they were on a quest to destroy Soul Edge, much like I was a few years ago...They're going to continue their quest, and..." Sophitia's voice trailed off.

"...Mommy? Why do you look so sad?"

Sophitia hesitated before speaking, because she knew that what she had to say was going to be very painful for both her and her family. "...I'm going with them."

"What? Mommy, why?"

"No, don't go, mommy! Please don't leave us!"

"I'm sorry, Patroklos, Pyrrha. I have to go for your sake. As long as Soul Edge is around, it is a threat to everyone alive, including you, and I want you to be safe, so I must go."

The two children looked down, sadly.

"...Please don't be sad, children. I always told you that I might have to do this again someday, and to prepare for that day. After Soul Edge is destroyed once and for all, the world will be much, much safer, and then I won't ever have to leave you again...okay?"

The two children seemed on the verge of tears, but nodded their heads.

"Please go get Auntie Cassandra and tell her I have news, all right?"

"Okay..."

The two children turned and ran towards the kitchen. Sophitia looked up, and saw someone standing in the doorway.

"...Rothion."

Rothion was standing in the doorway, looking at Sophitia. She could not read the expression on his face. It was blank, but carried with it a sadness...or, almost, an anger.

She took a step towards him, and when she did, he took a step back. She faltered for a moment, and then walked towards him. He quickly slipped to the side and out of view.

"Rothion, wait! Are you upset? Please, wait..."

Sophitia entered the room he had been standing in, but all she saw was the back door slamming.

_What's gotten into him...? I've never known him to act this way before..._

"Sis?"

Sophitia turned around to see her sister. "Oh...Hi, Cassie..."

"...You're going again, aren't you?"

Sophitia chuckled lightly. "...I guess it's easy for you to tell."

They briefly shared sad smiles with one another.

Sophitia sighed. "...You know why I have to do this...It's because of the children..."

"Don't worry, Sophie." Cassandra said. "You don't need to give me any excuses. I understand how you must feel. Even if I'm not a mom."

Sophitia smiled. "Cassie...can I count on you to look after the children?"

Cassandra hesitated.

"...Is something wrong?" Sophitia asked.

"...I feel that, if you're out on a quest, I should be doing the same. You know how much I care about you and your kids, sis. I want to help you."

"Oh, Cassie...I think you could help me best by staying home and watching the children."

Cassandra puffed her cheeks out to show her displeasure at the prospect that Sophitia had suggested. "But, I don't want to spend my life staying at home and watching after children...I want to be out there in the world, doing things..."

"Don't worry, Cassie, I'm sure you'll be able to obtain a life like that. ...But would you consider protecting my children until I make sure they'll be safe...?"

Cassandra looked downward. "...Yeah, I guess." ..._But I won't make any promises._

---

After telling her plans to her children and sister, Sophitia searched the house and its perimeter for Rothion, but did not find him. When she finished looking for him, she set out for the inn that Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy were staying at. Before Sophitia had gone to talk with her family, she and the others had agreed to meet back at the inn in a short while to discuss what they were going to do next. Siegfried and the others had been stocking up on supplies for their ensuing journey, and arrived at the inn shortly after Sophitia did.

With all of them present, and a private room secured, their discussion began. However, the 'discussion' consisted mostly of Siegfried and Ivy arguing, with Tira occasionally adding in a few comments in favor of whatever her Master was currently suggesting, and Sophitia mostly staying silent, not seeming to be paying much attention at all.

When Siegfried took notice of Sophitia's absentmindedness, he asked her if something was wrong. Sophitia confessed that there was an issue she had left unresolved with her family, and that she couldn't stop thinking about it. Siegfried told her that since it was bothering her so much, she was free to leave and tie up the loose end. Sophitia thanked him, and left quickly.

Sophitia went straight home, and searched for Rothion again. Once again, she did not find him. She consulted Cassandra on the matter, and Cassandra had this to say:

"The last time I saw him, he seemed angry. He said he was going to see his friend Abderus."

Sophitia remembered Abderus' name. He was a merchant who often purchased items forged by Rothion, and the two of them had struck up a friendship together. Sophitia knew where he lived - she hurried over to his house, and began knocking on the door. It had grown very late - most people were now asleep, or just heading to bed - and a very sleepy-looking Abderus answered the door.

"Abderus, where is Rothion?" Sophitia asked, urgency in every syllable.

"...Rothion?" Abderus asked slowly as he blinked and rubbed his eyes. He was obviously very tired, and his sluggish nature was a sharp contrast compared to Sophitia's rushed attitude. "...Why are you asking me?"

"You mean, he's not here?"

"...No, he's not. Has he gone missing, or something...?"

"Well, when he left home earlier, he said he was coming here."

"...That's odd. Just as I was closing up shop a short while ago, I saw him, but he didn't stop by, or anything like tha-"

"You saw him? Where was he?"

"...He was over there. On the porch of that house, talking to a woman. Don't know who it was."

Sophitia looked at the house that Abderus was gesturing at. "He was on the porch of that house, talking to a woman...?"

"...Yes. Pardon, but tomorrow will be a very busy day, and I'd really like to get back to bed now, so-"

"Oh!" Sophitia exclaimed. "I'm so sorry for bothering you this time of night. Thank you for helping me!"

"...Yes, it's fine. Hope everything turns out all right. Good night..." Abderus closed his door.

Sophitia stared at the house that Abderus had pointed at for a few moments. _...A woman. He was talking with a woman...No! Why am I assuming the worst? Rothion's never been disloyal to me. I should have more faith in him and be more trusting..._

Sophitia's attempts to calm herself did not prevent her from running with haste to the house. When she reached it, she raised her fist towards the door to knock on it, but found herself hesitant to do so, fearful of what the truth might be.

However, she would find out the truth regardless of whether she knocked or not.

As she stood before the door, she could hear voices coming from inside the house. She listened closer. The voices were low, groaning sounds. Occasionally, words were spoken -

_"Yes..."_

_"Oh, God..."_

Sophitia listened in disbelief to what she realized were ecstatic moans. Feeling weak, she let her hand lower, and came to rest on the door. The slight pressure it exerted upon the door pushed it open - it had been unlocked.

A greater amount of fear and curiosity than she'd ever felt pushed Sophitia into the house, and she quickly began searching for the source of the moans.

_It's probably just the woman and her husband. Rothion's probably back home. I'm probably about to make a big fool out of myself by intruding upon a woman and her husband, and-_

Sophitia stumbled into a room where two naked bodies lay on a bed, glistening with sweat, wrapped in each other's arms, and grinding against one another.

One of them was Rothion.

"Oh, yes...you're so good at this..."

"Don't stop...harder..."

"I'm almost there...oh, you're so perfect, baby..."

"Mmm, yes! Yes!"

Sophitia slowly shook her head back and forth._ No. No, no, no. This isn't right. This shouldn't be happening. This can't be. ...It's a test from the gods, or an illusion, or a dream, or..._

But the more Sophitia watched them, the less she was able to keep herself in denial. When Rothion and his lover arched their backs, moaned loudly, shuddered with ecstasy, and collapsed in each other's arms, tears began to form in Sophitia's eyes.

After a few moments of basking in the happiness that their act gave them, Rothion's lover suddenly did not seem so pleased. She turned her head so her lips were next to Rothion's ear, and whispered, "...Darling, did you know that we have a visitor?"

Rothion's body jerked slightly in surprise, but he turned his head to see his 'visitor' very slowly - perhaps because, deep down, he already knew who it would be. Although he only caught a fleeting glimpse of them as they darted out of the room, he recognized her.

Sophitia only made it a few feet away from the house's porch before she stumbled and fell to the ground. She tried to get up, but found that she did not have the willpower. She lay there, sobbing and heaving, until she heard footsteps approaching her. She jerked her head around to see Rothion behind her, clothed only in a pair of pants, approaching her. Desiring not to be seen in a humiliating state by him, she quickly scrambled to her feet.

She stared at Rothion with tears rolling down her cheeks and a trembling lower lip. "...How could you?" She finally managed to spit out.

Rothion's expression seemed sympathetic and guilty at first, but at her comment, it turned to an angry one. "...How could I? How couldn't I? Oh, that's right. You're not me. You don't know what it's like being married to Sophitia Alexandra. Did you know that everyone mocks you when you're not around? 'Oh, there goes Sophitia, that crazy lady who thinks she can hear the gods.' 'Oh, there goes Sophitia, that crazy lady who disappears for months and years on imaginary crusades for her imaginary friend Hephaestus.' But that's not what stings me. 'Oh, there goes Rothion, the idiot who married a crazy lady who thinks she can hear gods and is gone half the time on stupid adventures to find some made-up sword!' "

"But Hephaestus is real, and Soul Edge is real, you know that!"

"So what?" Rothion demanded. "No one else knows that, or ever takes me seriously! It hurts my business, and hurts my pride! Everyone spends their time making fun of you, of me, of our children. Surely you wonder why your brother Lucius and your mother and father are all but estranged now. It's because they're embarrassed. It's because they're ashamed. Ashamed of having a crazy daughter who hears voices and runs away for months at a time, leaving her husband without a wife and her children without a mother!"

"I...I..." Sophitia stammered, but her throat was too choked up to allow words through.

"I was able to deal with the ridicule at first, but there's one thing I can't take. You can't expect me to be satisfied with a wife who leaves me for months, can you? I spend so many nights cold and alone, not even knowing if you're dead, not even knowing if you were raped, killed, and are lying dead in a ditch somewhere, not even knowing if you've run off with another man and will never return to me again. I don't know a single damned thing, and on top of it all I have to endure being alone every night for months? I married you, not an empty spot on a bed, but guess which one I lay next to at night!"

Sophitia tried to speak, but could only force sobs out of her mouth.

"Who did you marry? Me, or Hephaestus? You spend more time off running errands for him. You and your sister run off and leave me to raise the kids all alone. You don't know what it's like! You don't have a clue what it is like to be me, Sophitia! To spend every day in ridicule and loneliness, and then to hear - to hear that you're going to be leaving again!"

Sophitia finally regained control of her throat. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS RESPONSIBILITY!"

Rothion stared at Sophitia with cold, hard eyes. "...Not your fault? You say it's not your fault? ...How...how dare you? Can you really stand there and tell me that all the pain you cause me is not your fault? HOW DARE YOU!"

Sophitia saw it coming. Over the course of hundreds of battles, she'd learned how to tell what an opponent's next attack would be from even the slightest movement of their muscles. She saw it coming, but did nothing to stop it. She still hung on to a thread of hope that this was a dream, an illusion, anything other than reality...

The sound of a palm striking a face rang out in the night.

Sophitia fell to the ground once more. She looked up at Rothion, whose expression of anger had finally faded. In its place was a look of disappointment. Rothion looked momentarily at his own hand with a look of fear, and then turned around and shot off down the street, not looking back.

Sophitia did not bother to get up, and simply laid there, crying and heaving. A flurry of thoughts stormed through her mind.

_People ridicule me behind my back. He hates his life. He thinks I'm a terrible wife. He slept with another woman. He hit me. He hates me. He doesn't love me anymore._

Sophitia's hands curled up into fists, and she gritted her teeth. Slowly, her sadness began to turn to anger.

_How could he? How could he? If he'd just told me all of this calmly, I would have stayed here, tried to be a better wife, and left Soul Edge to the others. He didn't have to sleep with another woman! He didn't have to hit me! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Why did all of this have to happen? All I wanted from him was love and comfort...Who will love me now? Who will comfort me now?_

Sophitia's eyes opened wide when she remembered.

_...Him._

He appeared in her mind glowing with a heavenly aura. That man, so pure of heart, so good-willed. So handsome, with that long hair and those stunning eyes. He had seen her naked once, but she had never even detected a hint that it lewd thoughts could possibly enter his pure and chaste mind. Not only was he irresistibly beautiful, but he was the most fascinating and tragic man she'd ever met.

_...I tried to suppress these feelings, but there is no point to that anymore. I know that he would love me better. I know that would hold me in his arms and comfort me. I know he would..._

Sophitia staggered to her feet. She turned her head in the direction of the inn the man was staying at. She whispered his name for a moment, heard by none by her, and then began running.

---

_Siegfried closed the door to his room, feeling exhausted. What a night. Ivy was so stubborn, refusing to hear anyone's opinion but her own. Tira tried, but she's not much help in times like those. And Sophitia...what was wrong with Sophitia, anyway? She never returned to the meeting. She had a look on her face as if she was pining for something the entire time, and said she had left something 'unresolved' with her family. ...I wonder what that could mean? She said goodbye to them, didn't she? Then what else could she have-_

Siegfried nearly stumbled.

_...Of course. How could I have not seen it?_ He leaned against a wall. She went off to make love to her husband one last time before she left. That's obvious.

Siegfried chuckled sadly to himself. _That Rothion. That damned lucky Rothion. I wonder how often he sleeps with Sophitia. Probably every night. I know that if Sophitia was my wife, I would sleep with her at least once or twice every..._

_...This is wrong. I should stop thinking these things. She is another man's wife, and besides that, I'm trying to stop thinking about this sort of thing..._

Despite his frequent self-chastising, Siegfried could not stop his curious mind from wandering. _...I wonder what Rothion is doing to her right now. He's probably lying on top of her, cupping those beautiful breasts of hers in his hands, and kissing them. Right at this moment, his hands are probably sliding up and down her body, fondling her breasts, those wonderful, supple, perfect breasts. I would do nearly anything to spend just one night holding those beautiful-_

Siegfried's hand came to his rescue - but not in the sense that one might expect. He slapped his own face, and shook his head. _Snap out of it, Siegfried! Why am I getting so frustrated over this? If it pains me so much, there is always Tira. That's what I should do. I'll go and lie with Tira, and I'll feel much better about this mess. ...Although it's not that I think that Tira exists merely for my pleasure...even if that's what Tira herself thinks...and I know I should be trying to ease out of how sexual my lifestyle has become...even though I may be unable to help it, i it really is this 'curse' that is causing my mind to deteriorate so..._

Siegfried continued to deliberate with himself. Eventually, it began to remind him far too much of the times when he would mentally deliberate with his Nightmare side when he was the Azure Knight, and decided to stop thinking about it at all, and simply go find comfort in the embrace of Tira.

The very moment his hand reached for the door to exit his room, a knocking suddenly came from it. Siegfried was not normally a man who scared easily, but he was feeling jumpy at the moment, and the knocking frightened him a bit.

When he recovered from his surprise, he called out. "...Who is it?"

"It's Sophitia."

_Sophitia? Here? At this time of night? But, why...?_

Siegfried opened the door, and beheld Sophitia. He noticed that her usual beauty was marred by a somewhat disheveled appearance. Her eyes looked slightly red, as if she had been crying. Her cheek was also red, as if she had been struck. She hid it well, but Siegfried could tell from subtle hints that she was distressed at the moment. _Something very bad must have happened. But, what-_

Sophitia stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as she did, without giving Siegfried a chance to stop her from doing so. Then, suddenly, she lunged forward, threw her arms around Siegfried's neck, pressed her lips hard against his, and kissed him.

Siegfried stood as still as a statue. _What? What is this? Why is she doing this...?_

_Kiss her back. Kiss her back, Siegfried._

_No! If I allow myself to be seduced yet again, then I will only be falling deeper into this pit I am trying to escape from. If I truly care for my mental clarity, I will have to reject this sudden advance of hers. Besides, Tira would be heartbroken if I lay with another woman after what I told her yesterday. And what's more, this woman is married! No, it would be wrong in so many different ways; I simply cannot do this..._

Sophitia noticed that Siegfried was not kissing her back, and slightly pulled her face away from his. "What's wrong?" She whispered in a sweet voice that sent chills running all over his body.

"...Y...you're married." Siegfried said, choosing to provide a short and reasonable explanation rather than explain to Sophitia the complex inner turmoil he was faced with.

Sophitia paused for a moment, and then spoke again. "...The truth is...I'm not actually married to Rothion."

Siegfried was once again shocked. "You're - not?"

Sophitia shook her head, her beautiful hair bobbing slightly along with it. "It is true that he and I were once married, but shortly after the birth of our second child, we decided that we were not right for one another, and that it would be better for the two of us to separate, and seek the ones we truly belong with. Since then, I've looked without success for the one who is for me...but now I think I've found him."

Siegfried faintly sensed that what she was telling him was a half-truth. Her story - separating from Rothion after the birth of her second child - seemed a lie, but he felt that when she said that she and Rothion were now no longer bound to one another, he believed her. _Maybe this is something that happened very recently...tonight, perhaps. ...Her red eyes and cheek - could that mean that she and Rothion fought? But they seemed to love each other so much, and this is so sudden, I..._

Sophitia leaned closer so that her lips were touching Siegfried's, but only just barely. "...Siegfried," she whispered, "I want you to touch me."

_Tell her 'no'. Tell her you can't. Explain everything to her, she'll listen and understand, and then this mess will be over with, and if you still yearn for sex, you can go see Tira..._

Sophitia did not wait while Siegfried struggled with himself. She took one of his hands in her own, and placed it on her thigh. She slowly slid his hand along her thigh, up her skirt, until it rested on her ass. Then she slid his hand further up, along her waist and torso, until it reached her breast. She pressed his hand against her breast, and gave a soft moan, her lips gently caressing Siegfried's.

Siegfried's sexual frustration was like a rope that had been pulled taut, come unwound one string at a time, and was now barely hanging on by a single thread. Sophitia's lips softly brushing up against Siegfried's in that sensual manner was enough to cause that thread to snap.

Siegfried pressed his lips against hers hard, and the two were soon locked in a fiery kiss.

Siegfried's hand moved up and down Sophitia's body from her breast to her ass again, this time of his own will. He slid his other hand onto her breast, and squeezed it fondly, just as he'd wished he could have done when he had been drying her body off two days ago - just as he'd been fantasizing about doing since then. He slowly slid both his hands down his body parallel to each other, taking his time and feeling the parts he especially wanted to. But when he'd done all he wanted to with his hands, he began to feel a desire that could only be quenched by the taste of Sophitia's skin.

He began to guide her body towards the bed, and she took the hint and laid herself down on it. Siegfried stood above her, enjoyed the sight of her beautiful body laying prone on a bed all for him, and then quickly began to remove her clothing.

First he pushed aside the fabric covering her breasts, and then buried his face in between them. He pushed then against his head with his hands, and moaned gently from pleasure. Then he began to kiss her breasts passionately, also drawing his tongue up and down them and sucking on her delicious, supple nipples.

"Siegfried, you're so...passionate!" Sophitia whispered between sighs of pleasure.

Siegfried continued to play with Sophitia's breasts, and generally fulfill every fantasy he'd been having about her even while guiltily trying to suppress those feelings. As he played with her body, the tension in between his legs grew stronger and stronger, and demanded to be relieved. When he could take it no longer, he reached down, unzipped his pants, and moved his body upwards long Sophitia's until his crotch was at her breasts.

As Siegfried slid his dick between her breasts, Sophitia's eyes grew wide, and then a somewhat amused expression overcame her face. She obviously had never thought of this deed before, and found it arousing and intriguing. She pushed her breasts against Siegfried's dick, and lapped the tip of his penis with her tongue whenever it came close enough as he pumped it through her cleavage.

Sophitia's willingness to assist Siegfried in reaching his climax was equally arousing for him, and before long, his body arched with ecstasy as he came on Sophitia's chest.

He slid his body back and collapsed beside Sophitia on the bed, spent and exhausted. Sophitia, however, was not done yet. Now that Siegfried had lived out all of his fantasies, it was Sophitia's turn to live out hers.

She rolled on top of him and began to plant kisses all across his face and neck, and eventually most of his upper body. Siegfried sighed happily, and let his hands roam across her body as she did so. Sophitia let her hands roam as well, massaging Siegfried's attractive physique and grabbing his ass.

The two of them explored and enjoyed each other's bodies for an ample amount of time, and eventually Sophitia felt Siegfried's dick grew hard and rub up against her thighs. She smiled slyly, and slid upwards along Siegfried's body until she was straddling his crotch, grabbed Siegfried's dick with her hand, and guided it inside of her.

The two of them enjoyed a very pleasant night, Siegfried letting go of his inhibitions and fulfilling the desires he'd been attempting to suppress, and Sophitia doing the same, as well as escaping reality and finding comfort in the arms of the man she had secret and forbidden feelings for.

The time eventually came when both of them were finished for the night, and lay entangled in one another's arms and legs, clutching closely the one whom had given them so much comfort and pleasure.

"Thank you." Sophitia whispered.

"I should be saying that to you." Siegfried replied, caressing her gently.

"That was the best experience in my life." Sophitia said, while sighing happily.

_...The best? ...Does that mean I was better than Rothion?_ Siegfried was reminded of the fact that another man had laid with Sophitia and had his way with her. The thought made him insecure, and he clutched her closer. _But, in a way, she just told me that I was better._ Siegfried took solace in this thought, and the comfort it brought him slowly lulled him to sleep.


	19. The Awakening of a Destiny

The Ling Sheng Su Temple was, for hundreds of years, considered to be the finest school for the sword and rod arts. Many heroes of history have come from this great temple, and, to this day, those who once trained at the temple are still strong. The temple rested on a quiet mountain deep in the interior of China, and usually had very little communication with the outside world. However, one day, robbers raided the town that neighbored the temple, and the monks were forced to leap into action to save the village. After the raid, the monks became concerned for those who were not able to protect themselves and needed others to protect them. So, the monks decided to open their doors and accept anyone into the great temple for training, regardless of age or gender, so long as they had a strong fighting spirit. Since then, it was customary for soldiers to visit the temple to brush up their skills, and many people from children to farmers to merchants came to the temple to learn basic techniques to protect themselves from robbers.

In the main hall of the Ling Sheng Su Temple, three sacred weapons known as the 'Holy Trinity' were stored. These three weapons were called the Kali-Yuga, the Krita-Yuga, and the Dvapara-Yuga. The reasons for why these weapons were kept there stretch far beyond recorded history, but the monks of the temple had always strictly enforced the rules, and knew that the weapons of the Holy Trinity were indeed sacred, so the weapons were kept well-protected there for hundreds of years.

The first weapon of the Holy Trinity was the Krita-Yuga - a sword. This sword was forged from a shard of an unholy weapon. The sword would revert to its unholy form through the absorption of negative energy and hatred, so extra caution was required. The first task of those entrusted with guarding the Krita-Yuga was to prevent it from reverting to its unholy form, so a special staff was created that absorbed various forms of energy to prevent the sword from absorbing negative energy, as well as channel positive energy into it to make it stronger. This staff was known as the Kali-Yuga. The second task of those entrusted with guarding the Krita-Yuga was to strengthen the newly born sword, so a special mirror was created that had the ability to maintain the purity of the sword by cleansing evil energy from it. This mirror was known as the Dvapara-Yuga, and could be worn on one's shoulder. These three items were what composed the Holy Trinity.

One day in winter, a baby was found abandoned in front of the Ling Sheng Su Temple. The monks of the temple took the child in, and began a search for its parents. Despite weeks of searching, the child's parents could not be found, and thus the temple adopted the baby.

The monks decided to name the baby "Kilik."

Kilik grew up healthily, and trained himself with the monks and pupils of the temple in the ways of the rod from a very young age. He also had a sworn elder sister named Xianglian. She, too, was one that had been adopted by the temple, and there she studied the art of the sword. She felt close to Kilik, since they were both orphans at one time, and she loved him as an older sister loves a younger brother.

The years continued to pass, and Kilik grew into a strong and healthy youth. Either because of natural talent, or because of the environment that he was raised in, Kilik mastered art of the rod, taught to him by a teacher known as Master Han, and became one of the school's finest students. His impressive skill and warm personality eventually led him to become a teacher himself. Soon afterwards, he was nominated to be the successor of the Kali-Yuga rod at the succession ceremony held once every 20 years. At the ceremony, he would be granted the Kali-Yuga itself. As its successor, his status in the temple would be raised as high as possible.

The night before the ceremony when the successor would be named, Kilik couldn't sleep, and sat on the stone wall behind the main hall, looking up into the moonlit sky, the cool wind of the night gently blowing against him. This was Kilik's favorite place within the temple. When he was a child, he used to come here and look into the stars each time his heart was sad. He sensed a presence behind him, turned around, and beheld Xianglian. As it turned out, she, too, had been elected to be a successor of a Holy Trinity treasure - in her case, it was the Dvapara-Yuga. She sat down beside Kilik, and the two of them began to talk about how far they'd both come, reminiscing about their pasts and remembering many old memories. They had spent many nights like this at this spot on the stone wall.

However, a question was troubling Kilik's mind - why was Xianglian, a master of swordplay, elected to receive the Dvapara-Yuga, a mirror, and not the Krita-Yuga, a sword?

Kilik finally asked her the question that had been troubling his mind. Xianglian fell silent, but eventually spoke. In a hushed voice, she quietly whispered to Kilik the Ling Sheng Su Temple's greatest secret - the Krita-Yuga had been lost ten years ago.

The scared weapons had been not only icons of the temple, but also a spiritual goal for the students. The thought of losing one of the treasures would have been a great moral damage to the temple. Thus, the fact that the Krita-Yuga was missing was strictly taboo, and only a few of the highest-ranking monks knew about it. They knew they had to hide the fact that the Krita-Yuga was missing, and instead of presenting the successor of the weapon with the actual sword, they would instead merely teach them the art of using that weapon. More over, the one whom had stolen the Krita-Yuga was none other than a high-ranking monk of temple, once nominated to be the successor of the Kali-Yuga!

Kilik was surprised to hear that one of the three treasures had been lost, but it was Xianglian's next statement that truly shocked him. "...I do not feel that I am worthy to succeed the Krita-Yuga, or even to study the art of the sword. The thief who stole the Krita-Yuga is no other than...my father."

Xianglian learned of this when she overheard a conversation between the school's masters. Master Han was aware that Xianglian had heard, and had tried to console her. He said to her gently, "These facts are true, but your life does not need to be ruled by the acts of your parents. You must cut your own path in life."

At the time, Xianglian was too young to understand, but as she grew, she understood the words of the master. However, she still felt that she had no right to be the successor of the sword or the art of it. If she did succeed, and people discovered the truth, they would not accept her. Besides this, Xianglian herself did not wish to be the successor. This was not a hasty decision; she had spent much long and deep thought on the matter. Master Han understood her choice, and nominated her to be the successor of the mirror instead of the sword. The skills needed to be the successor of the mirror were not natural fighting talent, but merely the power of a pure soul and a strong mind. In those areas, she was more than strong enough.

Silence fell on Kilik and Xianglian as their thoughts reflected on understanding the other's situation. The cool night breeze grew cold, and they began to stand to leave for a good night's rest. However, as they stood up, they suddenly felt the moonlight grow stronger. They looked into the sky, and saw a beautiful display of lights covering the stars. However, although the lights were beautiful, there was a mysterious evil within them. Kilik and Xianglian sensed the evil within the lights, and ran to a nearby hall. Deep in the hall laid the shrine for the sacred treasures. Some priests in the hall were preparing for tomorrow's ceremonies. They sensed the evil presence of the lights approaching, and handed Kilik and Xianglian the Kali-Yuga and the Dvapara-Yuga to fight the evil that they knew was approaching.

Somewhere in Spain, a young, misguided man had just carelessly touched the forbidden evil sword Soul Edge.

At that moment, Soul Edge lost its inner balance, and expelled its evil will all over the world, like seeds of disaster that were scattered all over Earth. This was the event that would later be known as the rain of the 'Evil Seed'.

The evil energy reached across the continent to the mountain village, and fell upon the temple. It forced pure evil into the people of the temple, and they were driven insane and filled with an intense rage. The monks were unable to hold on to their sanity, and in their blind, animalistic fury, began to attack and kill one another.

Kilik was poisoned by the Evil Seed, as well. He flew into a berserk rage, just like the others, and with one of the three treasures in his hands at the time, he caused more destruction than anyone else. He was so strong that he killed dozens of people. Only one person at the temple was able to escape the evil influence - Xianglian, for she wore the Dvapara-Yuga on her shoulder. Realizing the power of the mirror, she tried to get close to Kilik to place the mirror on him, but it was an extremely difficult task, as the people of the temple seized by the Evil Seed savagely attacked her.

Despite the odds against her, Xianglian managed to place the Dvapara-Yuga on Kilik. Kilik now had control of himself once more, but had no memory of what he had done, and was confused and bewildered by the people killing each other around him. He was forced to fight his attackers in order to survive.

Kilik was forced to kill the friends he had trained with. He was forced to kill his own students. He was even forced to kill his master, who had found and raised him. Kilik watched with horror as his and friends students ruthlessly killed each other and attacked him with the ferocity of wild beasts. Kilik tried to talk to them, but his words could not reach them. Exhausted and confused by the madness, Kilik tried to escape from the temple. But, just then, Kilik sensed a bloodthirsty presence behind him. He raised the Kali-Yuga in defense, turned around, and saw a sight he had hoped that he would not have to behold.

Xianglian had turned into a puppet of evil as well, and now lunged at him with the same feral desire for death as the others. Kilik desperately repelled her attacks that held strength clearly beyond any normal mortal's. By this point, he was exhausted beyond the human threshold, and his consciousness was beginning to fade. He closed his eyes, and moved without thought. A moment later, he felt a pain on his left cheek. A warm liquid trailed down the rod, and covered his hands. He opened his eyes, and in horror, gazed upon Xianglian, the Kali-Yuga piecing her body straight through her heart.

Kilik screamed, and his sad cry echoed through the darkness of the night.

He does not remember what happened after that.

---

As the sky began to turn gray in the east, an old man stood in the now silent Ling Sheng Su Temple. He remained calm, despite the mountains of death and rivers of blood that fell upon his eyes. He looked down upon Kilik, who was unconscious before him. The old man very still stood for a long time, and then slightly nodded his head, as if he had made a very important decision.

In the next few minutes, the once great Ling Sheng Su Temple was aflame, and Kilik was slung over the shoulder of an old man who was carrying him to a place very far away.

---

Kilik had been asleep for two days, and now awoke to find that he was lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar dwelling. He realized that his body was covered in wounds and scars, and found signs that his injuries had been cared for, but he couldn't summon the strength to move. With labor, he was able to move his head enough to see an old man sitting nearby and looking at him.

The man told Kilik that he was the adviser to the Ling Sheng Su arts of fighting, and that he was in charge of teaching the secret arts of the Holy Trinity style to the successors of the weapons. He then warned Kilik that he could never remove the Dvapara-Yuga from his shoulder, no matter what might happen. Kilik had many questions, but old man told him that he should concentrate on resting his body and nothing more. From then on, the old man would not speak a word to Kilik.

Time passed, and Kilik recovered the ability to walk, but he had trouble remembering the events that had occurred that terrible night at the Ling Sheng Su Temple. One night, as he looked up into the southern sky, the nightmare of that night returned to his mind.

After remembering the atrocities that he had committed with his own hands, Kilik was overwhelmed with intense guilt, and could not bear the remorse he felt. He had killed the people that adopted him, raised him, and trained him. He had killed the friends he had shared joy and sorrow with. And he had even killed the one who had been like a sister to him - Xianglian.

Kilik wanted to die. He did not feel like he deserved to live anymore. He felt cheated because he had fought desperately to recover his health, but now the pain of living was more than he could bear. "Why did Xianglian place the Dvapara-Yuga on me?" An agonized Kilik spoke aloud to himself. "I only survived because Xianglian gave her own life to entrust me with the mirror. Why would she do this? Why did she want me to live, and possess the rod and mirror? Xianglian, Why? Why must I live?"

"Time will give you the answer."

Kilik was shocked to realize that the old man had been standing behind him, and that he had spoken again for the first time since Kilik first met him - and he had much more to say.

From that night onwards, the old man broke his silence, and began to tell Kilik a great many things. He began by telling Kilik what he knew about the Evil Seed, and explained the tragedy at the temple as well as he could. He explained to Kilik that, even as they spoke, evil spirits possessed both Kilik and the Kali-Yuga, and only the power of the Dvapara-Yuga suppressed the evil and protected them. If the mirror was removed from Kilik, he would be seized with evil, and fly into a berserk rage just as the people of the temple had. If the Dvapara-Yuga was removed from Kilik's body, Kilik would turn completely evil. If the Kali-Yuga was separated from Kilik, then it too would cause disasters. Kilik and the two ancient treasures could never be separated. The old man could sense that the Evil Seed had been a result of Soul Edge, and told Kilik the legend of the evil sword.

"You must live as I once did." The old man said. What he meant by these words were that Kilik would have to master the secret arts of the Ling Sheng Su style, learn to control himself, and learn to suppress his demonic possession.

Kilik listened closely to the old man's words, and with consideration, determined that his words were wise and true. Kilik decided to train under the old man. For three years, Kilik trained with every ounce of strength in his body. The years went by very quickly, and when his training had been completed, Kilik had successfully mastered the Ling Sheng Su style, self-control, and even the dark power of the Evil Seed that was inside of him.

It was then that Kilik's Master ordered Kilik to one final trial. Kilik's final trial was to be a journey to purify himself in the west. Kilik agreed to the trial, seeing that it could also be an opportunity to find and destroy Soul Edge to avenge his fallen comrades and redeem himself for his sins that night. After words of farewell, Kilik left his Master's hermitage, and began his quest.

---

At this point, the story of Kilik becomes intertwined with the story of another soul. The name of this soul is Maxi.

Maxi was a pirate from Ryukyu Kingdom, whose philosophy was to live as freely as the wind. Maxi had anchored his ship at an Indian port when Kilik arrived searching for a ship to the west. Kyam, Maxi's sworn brother, was taking care of the ship while Maxi was away. Kyam liked Kilik because he had chosen their ship among many. "You have a good eye!" Kyam said, laughing. "We would be honored to have you as our guest."

As Kilik was awaiting Maxi's return, the weather grew hostile. A strong wind began to blow, and a thick fog rolled in. Slowly, a mysterious ship crept out of the fog, heading straight for Maxi's ship. The ship moored along Maxi's, and suddenly a large crowd of ferocious monsters boarded Maxi's ship and began to attack. Kilik did not know the monsters' reasons for attacking this shup, but defended himself from the monsters. Although Maxi's crew fought valiantly, the monsters were very powerful, and were slaughtering them.

The battle was raging when Maxi returned, and he joined the battle to defend his ship. It was only with the combined efforts of Maxi and Kilik that they were able to drive the monsters back, but, as they did so, a greater threat approached. A giant golem bearing a huge ax who seemed to be leading the attack leapt into the battle, and mortally wounded Kyam. With one of his mighty hands, the golem pulled the Dvapara-Yuga off of Kilik! Without the Dvapara-Yuga, Kilik lost control, and flew into killing frenzy, attacking everyone in sight, even Maxi. Upon seeing this, the golem laughed, decided that his work here was done, and left.

Maxi knew nothing of the Dvapara-Yuga, but could only conclude that removing it from Kilik was what caused his rampage, and that placing it on him once more could stop him. Acting on this guess, he placed the Dvapara-Yuga upon Kilik. The instant he did so, Kilik lost consciousness.

Maxi was left facing a ship full of human and monster corpses. He dashed to the side of the dying Kyam, and listened to his final words. "Brother...there is nothing you can do for us now...but, on behalf of us, avenge what has been done here today..." Kyam begged Maxi with his last breaths.

Maxi had lost everything he owned in a single instant. The only thing he could do now was to find the golem that had attacked his ship, and take revenge. He decided to join Kilik on his journey, as he felt certain that if he did so, he would eventually find the one that had massacred his crew.

---

Kilik's story intertwines with one more soul, as well, but the story of the next soul begins decades before she was even born...

In the Ming Empire, there is a family named the Chai family that has long followed a special tradition: Once the eldest son of the family succeeds his father's estate, the remaining sons leave the house to search for their purpose in life. The second son of the family must also follow a tradition; he is to settle down in the town were the Ling Sheng Su temple is located. The traditions of the Chai family state that, regardless of gender, all members of the family must become skilled martial-artists to protect themselves, their family members, and serve their nation well.

The daughter of a Chai family member, Xiangfei, was born in the town, and attended the Ling Sheng Su Temple to learn the art of swordplay. Whether it was because of her bloodline or not, her diligent training over the years brought her a level of skill that surpassed even the monks of the great school. If only she had been born a man, then she surely would have been nominated to be the successor of the Krita-Yuga.

Xiangfei fell in love with one of the monks of the Ling Sheng Su temple. His name was Kong Xiuqiang, the probable candidate to be the successor of another one of the one of the three treasures of the temple; the Kali-Yuga. Sadly, love between students of the temple was forbidden. The two lovers managed to keep their love secret for many years, and not until Xiangfei became pregnant with her daughter, Xianglian, did the monks know of their relationship.

A candidate could never sway from the path of purity, and thus the school decided to separate Xiangfei and Kong by driving Xiangfei away. The school did not allow Xiangfei to bring her daughter with her. Now separated from both her daughter and her lover, Xiangfei could not bear her sorrow, and decided to leave town and never return.

Kong's sworn brother, a fellow student named Han Dongxiu, heard she was leaving, and gave his friend advice "You should not just sit here and mope. You still have time to see her again! Shape your future with your own two hands; you must cut your own path in life!"

Kong believed that Han was right, and decided to spend one last night with Xiangfei. With Han's help, Kong was able to sneak away from the temple, and travel down to the town under the vale of darkness. He found Xiangfei and gave her a gift - a sword - as proof of their love, and as a reminder of the hope they would meet again. They shared a final night of passion, and then bid farewell to one another. It was all they could do.

Xiangfei left the town, and told none her final destination. She left pregnant with her second child, but she hoped that Kong would soon forget about her and focus on his candidacy for the Kali-Yuga. She returned to her noble family. With the Chai family's long lineage of soldiers in the Ming Empire capitol, she was able to join the ranks of the soldiers. There, she bore her second daughter - Xianghua. Xianghua was never told about her mother's past. Meanwhile, the Ling Sheng Su temple was facing a great crisis. The Krita-Yuga was missing. Investigations traced the theft to Kong, and he was immediately excommunicated and driven from the temple. Xianglian was left alone in the temple without a father or mother. The temple decided to raise her, told her that she had been an orphan, and she did not learn the story of her parents for several years.

Kong followed traces of Xianglian, and discovered her link to the Chai family. However, the Chai family would not allow Kong to see Xianglian. They told him that Xianglian was happy believing that Kong was in the temple training hard, and reasoned that Xianglian would certainly be sad if she learned that Kong had been excommunicated.

Kong desperately wanted to see Xianglian, but trusted her family's decision. As persuaded, Kong left the house - without ever knowing that a second daughter had been born. He had absolutely nowhere to go. From that point on, he disappeared completely.

Meanwhile, the temple's search for the Krita-Yuga continued, and the first suspect of the current owner of the sword was Xiangfei. The search party found her, but the sword they could not. All they found was Xiangfei looking after her daughter, Xianghua. At the time, Xianghua was playing with a battered old sword, but it was obviously not the Krita-Yuga. The search party returned to the temple in failure, and after many years, the temple gave up the large-scale search.

No one knew, not the search party, the Chai family, Xiangfei, or even little Xianghua herself knew that the old sword she played with was none other than the Krita-Yuga, after all! To prevent its true power from being abused, and in case it was ever separated from the other three treasures, the Krita-Yuga had the ability to change its shape and sleep in silence. Only Kong, who separated it from the other treasures, had ever witnessed this, and was the only person in existence who knew the sword's secret.

Xianghua grew up never knowing she had an elder sister. By her tenth year, she had acquired the basic arts of swordplay. Her mother eventually fell ill and died, and her mother's death drove her to train as hard as her dear mother once had. By her sixteenth year, her skill was so renowned that she decided to apply for a position in as one of the royal guards of the Ming Emperor.

The Emperor of the Ming Empire had long been searching for Soul Edge. He was one of many who had been misinformed about the sword, and knew it by the title of "The Hero's Sword". He was irritated by the lack of progress his subordinates had with their search, and decided to send his royal guards as the third searching party. Xianghua was made part of the search party, and thus inducted into the Emperor's royal guards. Xianghua agreed to the task.

Xianghua had been training herself in martial arts under her mother since she was a child. As her mother lay on her deathbed, she gave to her daughter the same advice that her old friend Han had once given her. "You were born to complete an important task. This may be your destiny, but how you face it is up to you. Xianghua, you must cut your own path in life." Xianghua saw the search for Soul Edge as the 'important task' that her mother had spoken of. She left for the quest, having her keepsake sword in hand. Gradually, members of the search party began to break off from the rest of the group to chase after various bits of information and rumors about Soul Edge. Xianghua left the party as well, chasing a hint of information, when she met someone - Kilik.

When Kilik learned that Xianghua was searching for Soul Edge, he suddenly became very emotional, and warned her that the sword was evil. The more Xianghua listened to him, the more she began to believe him. She now saw the information she had gathered so far in a different light, and the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. She realized that Kilik was right. Xianghua agreed to join Kilik and Maxi, and aid Kilik in his journey to destroy the sword.

Kilik sometimes considered telling Xianghua that she reminded him very much of someone he had once known - Xianglian. But he never told her, and Xianghua never learned that she had a sister, or that she had met her death at the hands of Kilik himself.

Kilik, Xianghua, and Maxi eventually followed the trail of Soul Edge to Ostrheinsburg Castle, where Siegfried, at this point in time consumed by the influence of Soul Edge and feared as Nightmare, was about to perform the ceremony to resurrect his father. The trio stormed the Castle. Maxi sighted the golem who had massacred his crew there - Astaroth. He separated from Kilik and Xianghua to do battle with the giant. Kilik found Nightmare, and the two of them began to do battle.

Nightmare's attacks were of incredible force, and with one blow, he shattered the Dvapara-Yuga on Kilik's shoulder. Kilik feared that the Evil Seed would take over his mind, but after bracing himself for the worst, realized that nothing had happened. Through his years of self-discipline, Kilik had obtained complete control over the evil contamination within him. Although the Dvapara-Yuga had been destroyed, Kilik was still in control of himself.

Siegfried believed that he had succeeded in resurrecting his father, but it was merely an illusion that his desperate mind had formed. When he realized this, he became too distracted and weary to defend himself, and Kilik struck Nightmare down. Xianghua moved forward to plunge the Krita-Yuga into Soul Edge to destroy the sword, but as she did so, the form of the Krita-Yuga changed. This was the moment when the Krita-Yuga revealed its true form.

The Krita-Yuga was Soul Calibur.

Xianghua was forced to do battle with an incarnation of the evil power of Soul Edge. It was an intense battle fought in an inferno created by Soul Edge's evil, but Xianghua succeeded. When she finally plunged Soul Calibur into Soul Edge, Soul Edge was banished into a void - and Soul Calibur along with it. Nightmare was defeated, and the two swords appeared to be gone forever. The crisis seemed to be over.

Kilik and Xianghua searched for Maxi, but could not find a trace of him anywhere in the Castle. They could only assume that their comrade had fallen in battle, said a prayer for his-well being, and left.

Kilik and Xianghua eventually went their separate ways. Kilik returned to his Master in order to perfect the technique of neutralizing and purifying the evil energy over time. Kilik spent all of four years training under his Master after the fateful battle.

One day, Kilik sensed a malevolent aura. It had the same energy as the wicked, demonic blade, and a realization came to Kilik - Soul Edge still existed! Merely shattering the weapon had not destroyed it. "It appears that brute strength is not enough to destroy Soul Edge. Would it be possible to absorb all of its powers into Kali-Yuga?" Kilik wondered. The "Kali-Yuga can absorb any form of energy, so it should be possible to keep all of the blade's evil power under the rod's control. Then, I can try to purify it over time, and Soul Edge will truly be destroyed forever..."

Kilik then realized a flaw in his plan. Four years had passed since he'd begun his training again, yet he had been unable to completely purify the evil inside his body. It would take a long time to purge the colossal amount of demonic energy possessed by Soul Edge.

But, it did not matter - his mind was made up. Kilik was willing to make the sacrifice as a means to atone for the deaths he caused, even if it took an entire lifetime.

With this great ambition in mind, Kilik set out for the west. Along the way, he encountered Xianghua once again. Just as when they first met, the two had differences in their opinions, but they wound up traveling together to search for Soul Edge.

One day, the two of them arrived at a city that was enveloped in an evil energy that was not Soul Edge. Kilik did not know its source, but, using a fragment of the Dvapara-Yuga and his powers of purification, he was able to heal citizens of the city.

Soon after he had done this, he was approached by a strange man with a scythe. The man spoke to him.

"You who are close to the spirit sword - leave this place. A great evil is poised to sweep over this land. Without your mirror, you cannot infuse your weapon with that power." The man possessed an extraordinarily forceful presence, and Kilik was puzzled as to how the man knew that Kilik once possessed the Dvapara-Yuga, but he would not back down. Their weapons clashed. Kilik lost. He was horribly wounded, and held onto consciousness by a thread. The man spoke once more.

"I see that you possess arts for purifying evil, but do not underestimate the evil sword. If you challenge it unprepared, you will surely find yourself trapped within its dark abyss."

That was the last thing Kilik heard before he lost consciousness.

---

Kilik awoke in a familiar bed, in a familiar dwelling. It was the residence of his Master. He learned from his Master what had happened. After the fight, Xianghua had carried him here. Sensing a terrible energy radiating from Kilik's wounds, his Master had performed a secret ritual to treat them. An entire month had passed since the battle.

Kilik realized his lack of skill. It would not be possible for him to seal the cursed sword at his current strength. The words spoken by the man with the scythe flashed through the back of his mind. Merely training in the arts of purification was not enough. If he himself was not strong, he would be unable to face off against great evil. As he thought to himself, he casually placed his hand on his chest, and realized something.

The fragment of Dvapara-Yuga that he had always kept on himself was gone.

"Xianglian..." The face of his sworn sister appeared in his mind. For the sake of the woman who sacrificed herself to the evil sword by entrusting the Dvapara-Yuga to him, and for the sake of the people of Ling-Sheng Su, he could not give up. But, what could he do? The cursed energy that he had felt from the west had not abated. In fact, it felt as if it were still spreading. There was no time to waste.

Reading Kilik's thoughts, his Master ordered him to begin rigorous training. His teacher intentionally surrounded himself with dark energy, becoming like someone affected by the Evil Seed. Kilik would have to face off against this opponent with nothing more than his staff. It was the most difficult challenge he had ever faced, but he had to overcome it in order to get stronger.

The power of his Master, now enveloped in dark aura, was greater than Kilik had imagined possible. As fast as lightning, as powerful as a wild beast, with the spirit of a raging hurricane - Kilik's Master was no like a demonic god. Kilik could not hope to win by attacking directly. He realized that he would have to focus on exorcising the evil energy now dwelling in his Master's body.

Kilik finally succeeded in striking his Master with a purifying attack. This blow, unleashed with an unclouded heart and unwavering mind, was sufficient to restore his Master's mind, but it wounded him deeply at the same time.

"You still lack skill." His Master said to him. "True purity of spirit strikes only at evil, and harms not the body...but you have done well for such a short time." After tending to his wound, Master handed something to Kilik - it was the fragment of Dvapara-Yuga that he thought he had lost! He then gave to Kilik a letter that Xianghua had entrusted to him. Kilik understood why his Master had kept these things from him. Kilik read Xianghua's letter.

"I am sorry that I couldn't do anything to help you, Kilik. I will work on my skills, grow stronger, and regain my courage. For now, please go on ahead without me. I am sure that we will meet again. And, next time, let's put an end to all of this. I believe in us. I know that we can do it, if we're together."

With her words in his heart, Kilik was prepared to set out west once more in pursuit of the evil that dwelt there. But, then, he realized that the evil had changed somehow. It still existed, and was as potent as ever, but it seemed as if there was something else alongside the evil - another kind of energy, that was suppressing or countering the evil. He wondered what this could mean.

"Master, do you sense that?"

His Master nodded his head. "I sense it. Evil energy, masked somehow. And...I sense something else. Someone who is contaminated by evil energy. The evil is lying dormant within them, but it will grow until it consumes them. My apprentice, this does not bode well. This strange energy should be reaching us soon - within a day's time. When it comes, you should purify it. If you can do so successfully, you will be ready to embark on your journey."

Kilik agreed, and understood. He would postpone his journey for one day to purify this energy.


	20. No Stranger To Horror

_...Oh, no. It's happening again._

Siegfried quickly stepped off the trail, held out his hand, and leaned on a tree. He didn't want to collapse, like last time.

_What is happening to me? Why does this happen?_

It had happened gradually, not all at once, but it had still taken Siegfried by surprise. His vision had slowly begun to dim, and then breathing had become difficult. He was beginning to have trouble forming coherent thoughts. _It's all right. This has happened a few times before. It only lasts a minute or so - I just need to stay calm and wait until it's over._

However, this was not to be. Suddenly, something that had not occurred the previous times began to happen - Siegfried's right hand began to tremble. He attempted to quell the shaking, but found that he could not. It was as if he did not have control over his right hand anymore.

_What? What is this feeling in my right arm? I have not felt this since..._

_...Since..._

Siegfried looked with horror down at his hand. As if to return his gaze, his hand turned over so that his palm was facing him. It gave another shudder, and then Siegfried saw a tiny dot of red appear in the center of his glove. The red dot began to expand, and Siegfried realized that his hand was bleeding.

He quickly ripped off his glove, and beheld a tiny slit in the center of his palm. It did not hurt; in fact, Siegfried's right hand merely felt numb. He stared at it in confusion, and then realized that it was growing. The slit was growing longer, and more blood was beginning to seep out.

Siegfried's bewilderment was broken by his realization that he should be trying to stop the flow of blood. But before he could begin to figure out how to do so, something else stole his attention.

Out of the slit in his palm, something that looked like a thin green worm was slithering out. Bathed in Siegfried's blood, it writhed and twisted until it had brought itself out of the slit - and then more began to appear.

No stranger to horror was Siegfried - no, certainly not. But to realize that something was living inside of him - that such a thing _could_ live inside a person, ravage their insides, burn through their skin, then climb writhing and twisting through the flesh to emerge pulsing and slick through some ruptured cavity - was far beyond horror.

More of the tiny green tendril-shaped beings began to seep out of his hand, some slithering around it, and some lightly flailing about. His hand twitched and shuddered – it no longer seemed like but now seemed to be a hand, but little more than a hollow shell, merely a conveyance for this ungodly thing that was now slithering out of him.

Tendrils continued to rip from his hand, accompanied by the sickening sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones, and yet Siegfried continued to feel no pain from this horrific wound, even as blood ran down his arm, mingling with other nameless fluids from the wound.

Finally, the tendrils stopped emerging from Siegfried's hand. They now covered his hand entirely. The tendrils began to branch off. Some of them wrapped around the three fingers in the middle of Siegfried's hand, and others slithered around Siegfried's thumb and small finger. Siegfried watched as the tendrils melded together with one another around his fingers. The tendrils continued to merge until they became like skin - a thick, leathery skin that was green and brown in color. His hand had now bulged out to a monstrous size, and was composed of three fingers, each of which was slowly developing a claw on each tip.

Siegfried gagged, then recovered. _Not again. No, not again. Never again. I'd sooner chop off my hand than see it turn into that monstrosity once more_. Violently, he shook himself, trying to pull his head together. Now was not the time to stare in horror. He had to do something about it - but he never got the chance. Once his hand's transformation was 'complete', it suddenly shot straight towards his face, and clamped onto it.

Siegfried nearly stumbled back from the force that the hand had grabbed him with, but managed to stay on both feet. He tried to command his hand to move away, but it was no good - neither his right hand nor his right arm would obey him anymore. He grabbed his right arm with his left hand, and tried to pull the monstrosity off of his face, but it was clamped on too tightly.

He gasped for breath, and inhaled only a foul stench that made his stomach turn. He realized that he was going to run out of breath, and would need to do something drastic. His left hand reached around his back for his sword, and he gripped the hilt.

But no sooner than he did so, his vision began to dim further, and he found himself even more unable to focus clearly. He would form a thought, but then it would slip from his fingers in an instant. It was as if his mind was no longer his. It was as if...

---

"Siegfried! ..._Siegfried!_ ...SIEGFRIED!"

Ivy turned her head left and right, scanning the forest for her lost leader as she trudged through the shrubbery. _Where the hell did he run off to? Did he really want to go this far away from the campsite just to take a piss? At least, I assume that's why he left. No one wants to come right out and say they're off to do such a thing. But regardless of that, he's been gone for nearly half an hour now. Where the hell is that fool?_

Ivy continued to stomp through the forest, slicing shrubs and small plants in her path to remove them from her way, but mostly out of irritation.

Ivy emerged back onto the forest trail, and turned around, looking in all directions. She caught sight of someone standing further down the trail, and although his back was turned to her, she recognized him as Siegfried. He was standing still, his legs apart and hands at his sides. Ivy began to call out to him, but then stopped. Something seemed wrong to her. She looked for something to base her odd feelings on. The glove on Siegfried's right hand was missing, but other than that, nothing was out of place - so why did she suddenly feel so uneasy?

Ivy shook off the feeling and called out as she walked towards Siegfried. "Siegfried! Didn't you hear us shouting for you? What the hell are you doing way out here? ...Hey! Are you even listening to me? Siegfried!"

At first, Siegfried did not show any sign that he had heard Ivy. Then, very slowly, his head began to turn in her direction. Ivy saw a disinterested look on his face, as if he did not care that she was there. Without even making eye contact with her, he then turned back in the direction he had been facing.

"...What the hell is wrong with you?" Ivy demanded. She walked up to Siegfried from behind, and put her hand on his shoulder with the intention of turning him around to face her.

But she did not get the chance to do so. The very moment her hand came into contact with him, Siegfried's right hand came up and smacked Ivy's hand away.

"_Don't touch me_." Siegfried growled.

Hs voice had been so low and feral that Ivy actually took a step back in surprise. Irritated, she yelled at Siegfried again. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"..._Me_? I believe the question is, what the hell is wrong with _you_, bitch?"

Ivy froze. "..._Excuse_ me? What did you just-"

Faster than she could react, Siegfried whirled around, shot his right hand out, and gripped Ivy's neck tight with it. He lifted her up until her feet were not touching the ground. Ivy's hands flew to Siegfried's in a vain attempt to loosen his grip.

As she looked at him in bewilderment, she now saw his face clearly, and realized something - it had changed. The skin around Siegfried's eyes had turned dark. A thin line of blood was slowly dripping from the scar that ran through his right eye. ..._What the hell is this? What happened to him? This is not Siegfried._

Ivy reached down for her sword, but the moment she grabbed it, Siegfried's other hand shot out and slapped her hand hard, knocking her sword out of her grip and sending it clattering harmlessly to the side.

Ivy brought up her legs and kicked Siegfried in the chest, torso, and finally in the crotch. He showed no signs whatsoever of being affected by her blows.

"As I said, what the hell is wrong with you, _bitch_?" Siegfried asked, putting emphasis on the last word this time. "Every word that comes out of your mouth is rude, vulgar, or both. I can't remember a single second you didn't spend bullying or annoying someone else. You're unreasonable, you become angry far too easily, and everyone around you hates you and thinks you're a bitch."

"...S...ieg.." Ivy was struggling for air now, and noticing that her hands and legs were not affecting Siegfried, tried to think of a way to escape his grasp, but could not think of anything. Finally, in a bout of desperation, she gripped the fabric of her clothing that covered her breasts, and pulled it down.

Siegfried did not lower his gaze. "You're such a whore, Ivy."

He slapped his free hand across her face, and then swung her body to the side, bringing her crashing into a tree, and then threw her several feet, sending her slamming into another tree. Ivy attempted to scramble to her feet, but the pain was too much, and she could not make it very far. When she looked back towards Siegfried, she turned her head just in time to see the tip of Siegfried's boot a moment before it connected with her jaw, and the blow sent her tumbling away a few feet further.

Siegfried approached her, a sadistic grin on his face. He brought back his boot and kicked her again, and again, and again. Ivy tried to rise up, but every time she did, Siegfried struck her down.

Just as Ivy was beginning to fear that she was about to meet her death, she noticed that Siegfried's blows were becoming weaker. She made another attempt to scramble away from him, and managed to do so. She whirled around to face him, but did not see the sight that she expected to see.

Siegfried was approaching her, but did not appear menacing at all. He was stumbling forward in an awkward gait, as if he had completely forgotten how to walk. His arms hung limply before him, as if he carried weights in each hand. The sadistic look that had been on his face was now replaced by an expressionless one. Then, all at once, he collapsed on the ground.

Ivy watched in shock and confusion. Siegfried's sudden collapse was an anticlimactic end to a struggle that had almost ended with the loss of her life. She approached Siegfried slowly and cautiously. "...Siegfried?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly raspy because of the state of her throat.

From what Ivy could see, Siegfried appeared to be sleeping. The skin around his eyes had returned to normal, and his scar had stopped its bizarre bleeding. Despite the fact that the threat seemed to be over, Ivy was still afraid to reach out and touch him again. Slowly, Siegfried showed signs of waking. Ivy took a step back. Siegfried's eyes lazily opened, and rolled around. Then, all at once, they shot open wide. Ivy leapt back, expecting an attack.

But Siegfried did not attack. Instead, he used his left hand to hoist his upper body up, held his right hand up, and looked at it. He stared at his hand intensely as if there was something on it - or something missing from it.

Ivy observed this bizarre behavior, and slowly circled Siegfried. When Siegfried finally stopped staring at his hand, he looked up, and saw Ivy. "Ivy! What happened?" He asked.

Ivy blinked. "I was about to ask the same thing of you."

Siegfried slowly rose to his feet. He looked around his surroundings. He noticed signs of a battle, then turned to Ivy, and noticed her wounds.

"...Oh, no."

"Oh _what_? What the hell is-" Ivy remembered that harsh language had been what got her into this mess, and quickly stopped speaking.

"Ivy, tell me what just happened."

Ivy had many foul attributes, but being foolish was not one of them. "...You don't remember."

"Ivy, tell me!"

"...After you left camp, you were gone for about half an hour, so we went looking for you. When I found you, you were..." Her voice trailed off.

"My right hand - what was my right hand like?"

"You were missing the glove on your right hand, that's all."

Siegfried looked at his right hand again.

"...Wait..." Ivy muttered. "...That's the same hand that was the giant claw when you were the Azure Knight, isn't it?"

"Ivy, what did I do?" Siegfried asked, desperation etched in every inch of his face.

"You..." Ivy decided to give Siegfried a simple version of the story. "...attacked me, and spoke...harshly."

Siegfried shook his head. "This cannot...this cannot be happening."

"Siegfried, I think you had better explain. What exactly happened?"

"...There...have been a few times when I suddenly became dizzy...my vision would blur, and I would be unable to think clearly, or maintain my balance...This happens very rarely - I always considered it to be merely a temporary ailment, something unworthy of concern or attention. However, the last time it happened, I collapsed, and was unable to stand for a few minutes. And this time, I... " Siegfried looked down at his hand again, which created a conclusion for Ivy to draw.

"...When did this start happening?"

"It was soon after-" Siegfried stopped, and a short silence ensued.

"...Zasalamel." The two of them spoke.

"So, I suppose he wasn't kidding about the curse." Ivy muttered. "Does this mean that you're turning into Nightmare again?"

"If my hand is normal, then its transformation was only an illusion created by my own mind. Besides that, Soul Edge no longer has a hold over me - and it never will again - so I could not be turning into Nightmare again. ...My only guess is that Zasalamel's curse planted evil within me, much like one would plant a seed, and that seed has finally sprouted. Whatever it was that you just saw was the result."

"Is this going to keep on happening?"

"...I can only assume that it will."

"Have any clue how to stop it?"

"...Well, there is our destination."

After embarking from Athens, Siegfried gave in to Ivy's stubbornness, and decided that their next destination would have something to do with finding a way to 'purify' the sword.

There was a rumor that, near a Hindu temple located on a mountain deep in the heart of India, there was a spot where pure water cascaded downward from the mountain's waterfalls. The beautiful, clear water that flowed through this place evoked an otherworldly, if not holy atmosphere, leading many to believe that it was a holy or legendary place.

The holy atmosphere was caused in part by the fact that the grounds were, indeed, completely pure. Even those unable to sense energy could tell that there was a certain purity to the place, and many people had studied the art of purification there, earning this spot the title of the "Proving Grounds".

It seemed that there was no better place to begin searching for a master of purification than in such a place. It was the only legend or rumor that they had heard of that had anything to do with purification, and seemed like a good enough lead, and so they had set out for the pure spot. They had made good time so far, and were now within a day or two of their destination. It was then that this disaster had struck.

"Yes, maybe someone there could help." Ivy said. "...Of course, that's assuming we actually find someone there. And that's assuming the place exists. And, obviously, all of that only matters if you don't kill us all before-"

"Ivy." Siegfried said tersely. Speaking her name in this tone of voice was his way of telling her that she was going too far, and to be silent. Ivy had always sensed a slight anger beneath her name when Siegfried spoke it, but now when she heard him speak her name this way, she was reminded of how deep and strong his anger towards her truly was.

"...Well, let's find the others and return to the campsite. They must still be searching, and they need to know about this."

---

The Proving Grounds were just as beautiful as the legend told them to be.

Built into a mountain was a structure that was easily recognized as a Hindu temple due to its Indian architecture. There were many platforms built into the mountain and on the river, and many rope bridges connecting the platforms to one another. The sky and water were extremely clear, and it seemed as if they were both one. Plants of a healthy green color adorned the structures here and there. A few hawks circled the area, as if even they could admire the pristine beauty of the grounds.

Siegfried, Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia stood on the ledge of an outcropping of rock, admiring the scene. Ivy, as usual, was the one to break the silence.

"How do you think we should go about finding a master of purification? Should we shout as loud as we can and hope someone shows up to investigate?"

Sophitia responded. "...That might work, but I think that plan lacks a certain degree of…tact. We should investigate the temple and those shacks."

"Yes, we _could_ do it the _slow_ way." Ivy grumbled. "What about you, Siegfried? What do you think?"

Ivy waited for a reply from Siegfried, but none came.

"...Siegfried?"

A horror slowly started to grow within her. She had been paranoid lately, expecting Siegfried to turn evil again at any moment, but since this had not happened, she had allowed herself to be more at ease. Now it seemed to her that this decision could prove to have been a large mistake.

Fearful of what she might see, she slowly began to turn her head around to face Siegfried. _He's standing behind me. Damn it, how could I allow him to walk behind us?_

The very moment Ivy caught sight of Siegfried - and the darkness that surrounded his eyes and the blood that ran from his scar - he lunged forward and slammed into her, shoulder first. The blow sent her flying off of the ledge, and into the water a short ways below.

"Oh, no! It happened again!" Sophitia gasped, unsheathing her sword, but Siegfried leapt over to her, caught her by the arm before she was able to resist, and flung her off of the ledge as well, sending her onto a platform below.

"...Master?" Tira asked, her voice a squeak from her confusion and fear at what her Master's change could mean for her. Siegfried removed his Zweihänder and swung it at her in one fluid motion, almost faster than Tira could dodge. She leapt backwards.

"Master, wait!"

Siegfried did not listen to her. He lunged forward and swung his sword again, and Tira leapt away, this time up, landing on the branch of a tree.

"Master, please stop this! Please listen to me!"

Siegfried swung his sword up, slicing it into the branch that Tira was perched on, and the branch was completely sliced off from the tree. Tira leapt from the branch just in time to avoid falling along with it, but was now in no better of a situation. Siegfried charged at her again, a thirst for nothing more than death and destruction clearly in his eyes. Tira realized that she would not be able to reason with him.

_What my Master wishes for is my death. Then, should I give my life to him? My life is his to use as he wishes. It is not my place to disallow him from killing me._

_No! Master will be cured, and then he will be back to normal. If I die now, I will not be able to serve him in the future once he becomes well again. I must disobey this one desire of his to allow myself to fulfill more in the future._

Tira turned and ran at full speed towards the ledge, and then leapt from it, landing on a large circular platform in the center of the area. Ivy had swam to a ladder on this platform and used it to get herself out of the water, and Sophitia had dashed to this platform to better see what was happening above her with Siegfried.

Siegfried stood at the ledge and looked down at the platform where the three women stood now, and smirked. He leapt down to a platform below, dashed across a bridge to the platform, and then turned around, and brought his Zweihänder slicing into the bridge itself.

"...Oh, no!"

Siegfried had just destroyed the only bridge leading to that platform - there was no easy way to escape from it. The women were trapped.

"What do we do!" Sophitia asked.

"I don't know. We might have to kill him." Ivy said.

"NO!" Tira suddenly screamed with uncharacteristic fervor. "Killing Master is _not_ acceptable!"

"Oh, really? Then what do _you_ suggest we do?"

"Knock him out - wear him down - anything but kill him!"

Siegfried began approaching the women. They all reached for their weapons. All three of them versus a demonic Siegfried - could they win? Was someone about to die? Was there any other way?

Just as their anxiety reached its climax, a voice rang out.

"STOP!"

Tira, Ivy, Sophitia, and even Siegfried all looked up in the direction of the voice. Atop the Hindu temple's opening, a man stood. He was a handsome man, with a slim but muscular physique. His hair was brown and ragged, and he had a V-shaped scar running across his left cheek. Around his neck he wore a necklace with a blue shard attached to it that almost seemed to glow. On his chest, he wore only an odd garment that seemed like a belt running diagonally, strapping some sort of strange plate to his left shoulder. On his arms, wrists, waist and knees, he wore golden rings, but they seemed more like weights that one would wear for endurance training than decorations. He wore red pants, and a blue-and-red sash around his waist that seemed very ragged, as if to say that this man was well-traveled and experienced. In his hand, he held a long red rod.

"You there, please, listen to me!" The man called out, gesturing to Siegfried. "I do not know if your true self can hear me, but listen to my words. You have been possessed by evil. You are not yourself, or in control of yourself. You cannot think rationally or reasonably at the moment. Please, throw your weapon aside, and remain still and calm! I can help you. I can purify-"

"Shut _UP_!" Siegfried shouted, his voice like a roar. "Your whining is grating to my ears. If you want to stop me, you will have to kill me. If not, shut up and stay the hell out of my way!"

The man's shoulders sagged. "...I see you are too far gone to be reasoned with. Very well."

He leapt from his perch at the temple's opening, soared through the air, becoming silhouetted against the sun for a brief moment, and then landed on the same platform that Siegfried stood on, in front of the women. He spoke to them without turning to look at them.

"Directly behind you, in the water at the base of this platform, there is a raft. Drop down and use it to get to safety. I am trained to purify evil without causing harm to my enemy...but there is no telling how destructive this battle could get."

Sophitia was the first to heed the man's words. She turned, ran to the edge of the platform, looked down, and leapt. When Ivy did not hear a splash or a sickening thud, she followed. Tira was the last to move.

"...You'd...better not kill him!" She said to her mysterious savior, and followed the two other women.

The man turned to Siegfried, and raised his rod.

"Please do not offer resistance. This can be quick and painless."

Siegfried smirked sadistically. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing to you."


	21. The New Legend

Kilik observed the possessed man warily. A purifying blow was most effective at the point that the possession was strongest. Two peculiarities about the man were a wound on his face that did not appear to be fresh, but was bleeding, and that his left hand was gloved while his right hand was not. Kilik did not know what to make of a missing glove, but assumed that the man's bleeding scar held more significance. He'd aim his blow for the scar, then - but it ran through the man's eye. It would be dangerous to strike a blow there...

...And something else about the nature of the scar troubled Kilik, too. Kilik had a very vivid memory of delivering such a scar to someone at one point, but could not remember when or to whom.

Furthermore, something about the man troubled him. He felt as if he had met this man before - but he had never known a knight with long blonde hair and such a huge sword. The only opponent besides his Master whom he had seen wield such a huge weapon was Nightmare. But this man could not be...

_...Wait. That scar. The only time I struck someone with a blow that grazed their eye, it was during the battle with Nightmare._

As the man approached him with a sadistic look, the shard of the Dvapara-Yuga Kilik wore around his neck glowed and hummed brighter and louder.

_...This man, he is..._

The man laughed. "You're trembling! Have you lost your courage already?" The evil within him was corrupting his speech and making his words come out as a raspy growl.

"...No." Kilik said, slipping into an aggressive fighting stance. "My resolve to save you is only steeled further, now that I have deduced your true identity...Nightmare."

The man laughed again, louder. "Fool! I conquered Nightmare long ago. Whom you see before you is Siegfried. My eyes have been opened. I see clearly now that I should have not shunned evil, but embraced it!"

"...So, you are not Nightmare anymore, but, once again, you are being controlled by evil. I will save you, no matter who you are."

Kilik closed his eyes, slowly slid a hand along the Kali-Yuga, and silently muttered a spell. The rod began to glow blue. Now that the rod was prepared for purification, all that was left was to properly land a purifying blow onto this man.

Kilik leapt forward towards Siegfried, and spun his rod in a circle around him. Almost faster than Kilik could see, Siegfried held up his sword and blocked the blow. He stood with a confident smirk on his face, and his body was lax, as if he needed to exert no energy at all to perform such a quick block. With just as much ease, he flicked his wrist, sending the massive sword towards Kilik. Kilik held the Kali-Yuga in front of him with both hands to block the blow, and leapt back.

_The speed with which he moves, and the ease with which he swings that giant sword...I have a feeling that the evil possession has given him supernatural abilities. I will need to wear him down first, and perform at my best._

Kilik placed one hand on one end of the Kali-Yuga, and his other hand on the shaft. He used his hand on the end of the rod to twirl it in small circles, and then thrust it towards Siegfried in a piercing motion. By twirling it that way, it should have been able to slip past any attempt at a shielding movement by Siegfried's sword.

But Siegfried merely held his sword straight out in front of him, and held it so steadfast that it stopped the Kali-Yuga the moment it came into contact with it. Siegfried's enhanced strength was going to be too much for such a tactic by Kilik.

Kilik withdrew the rod and went for a more direct attack, leaping high into the air and coming down on Siegfried with the rod. But, Siegfried thrust out his sword towards Kilik, and Kilik was forced to call off his attack and use his rod as a shield. He shoved the rod against Siegfried's sword with enough strength to force himself away from it, and landed safely.

Kilik leapt into another attack immediately. He spun both his body and the rod, hoping to accelerate the rod's speed to be able to get past one of Siegfried's parries - but Siegfried blocked each blow every time the rod came close to him, and although Kilik took these opportunities to reverse the direction of his spinning and attack Siegfried's opposite side, Siegfried blocked each of these attacks, too.

Despite its lack of success, Kilik carried on this tactic, and then suddenly changed his method of attack, switching to a stabbing motion. But, Siegfried showed no surprise at all at Kilik's sudden change of tactic, and calmly blocked this blow, as well.

Kilik was becoming disheartened, and Siegfried could tell. Once he judged his opponent's morale to be low enough to succeed at a surprise attack, he attempted one.

Siegfried vanished - at least, to Kilik, it seemed that way. When he moved his head left and right as if to search for his missing opponent, he found him, on his right side. Siegfried had moved with incredible speed. His posture was still loose and relaxed - except for the arm held his sword, which was now swinging towards Kilik, and fast.

Kilik immediately brought the Kali-Yuga up to parry this blow, but as soon as he did, Siegfried disappeared again. On intuition, Kilik whirled around to face the opposite direction, and held out his Kali-Yuga to deflect a blow - and it did so.

Kilik leapt back, far more cautious now that he knew he was facing an opponent who could move around his body faster than could be seen. Although Siegfried seemed to possess the ability to kill Kilik in the blink of an eye, he didn't look as if he had any intention of doing so soon. The look on his face was not one of a warrior engaged in combat, but of amusement.

_He knows he can kill me in an instant. He's just toying with me._

This was a blow to Kilik's pride, but he knew that there were more important matters at the moment. He would have to take advantage of Siegfried's overconfidence. _He thinks he is dominating this battle, so I'll have to surprise him - I'll have to do the opposite of whatever he expects me to do._

Kilik leapt forward and spun the Kali-Yuga in front of him, and it functioned as a rotary shield. When he was within range to attack, instead of using the rod for an attack, he leapt forward and struck out his leg in an attempt to kick Siegfried. His foot connected with Siegfried, but not in an agreeable way - Siegfried had grabbed Kilik's foot.

Siegfried basked in the fact that his opponent felt helpless and defeated for a moment, and then flung Kilik's body away with a mere flick of his wrist.

Kilik flew through the air, fell to the ground, and skidded a few feet before coming to a stop dangerously close to the edge of the platform. He quickly leapt to his feet and assumed a battle pose once more - he was fighting a psychological battle as well as a physical one, and could not allow his opponent to think that he was any less eager to fight.

Kilik rotated the rod before him again, this continuously moving from his right side to his lift side, creating something of a whirling shield before him. Kilik rotated the rod faster and faster, and then began to quickly approach Siegfried. When he came within range, he attempted to strike Siegfried with the spinning rod, as well as leap into the air and perform kicks along with rod attacks. Eventually, he began to spin his body as well as the rod, and to achieve this, he would sometimes need to spin the rod under or around his legs when they were airborne, and was now gyrating his body as well as the rod in this frantic flurry of attacks.

Siegfried blocked each blow with inhuman speed, seemingly never to exhibit any stress or move a single limb other than the one that held his sword. Then, in the midst of one of Kilik's attacks, he held his sword perpendicular to the ground and thrust it forward, and it knocked Kilik onto his back. Kilik rolled to the side, only a moment before Siegfried's sword came crashing into the spot that he was in a moment before.

_He's finally decided to actively attack? This battle is about to get a lot harder._

Siegfried began to swing his sword about with lazy flicks of his arm. As tactless as this seemed, it was still very deadly. Kilik began to use his rod as if it was a sword, gripping one part like a hilt and swinging the rest of the rod against Siegfried's sword to block his blows. Among blocking the blows, he incorporated many attacks of varying natures, but none of them connected successfully. Finally, the stress of the battle was too much for him, and he leapt away from Siegfried to catch his breath.

The end result was a relaxed Siegfried standing at one side of the platform, an arrogant smirk on his face, and an exhausted Kilik standing at the opposite side of the platform, hunched over and panting heavily. Kilik's body was at its limit - he could hide his fatigue no more.

Siegfried lowered his head, and with his body hunched forward, began to walk towards Kilik, looking somewhat reminiscent of a wolf approaching its prey. Kilik knew that this was the moment Siegfried had been waiting for - when his opponent was too exhausted to deflect a deathblow - and that it would all be over momentarily if he did not do something drastic quick.

Kilik closed his eyes. He stood up straight, and very still. He held the Kali-Yuga upright in front of him.

"...I can tell what that is." Siegfried said. "A desperate last-ditch effort. Whatever you're about to do, it won't work." He hunched down low again, and then rushed forward at Kilik.

Kilik stayed perfectly still, until the moment that Siegfried drew back his arm to swing his sword. Then, Kilik's eyes shot open, and his limbs shot out. He held the shaft of the Kali-Yuga with his left hand, and put his right hand on its base. He shoved his right hand forward as hard as possible, and at the same time, lunged his body forward, and gave a shout.

"Evil, be vanquished!"

The tip of the rod struck square in the middle of Siegfried's chest. It punctured a hole in his armor, and came into contact with his body. Siegfried was stopped dead in his tracks by the rod. With his left hand he grabbed the rod and tried to push it away, but he could not move it.

The Kali-Yuga and shard of the Dvapara-Yuga glowed purple for a brief moment, and then the glow faded. Siegfried slumped over, not in lax confidence, but like an unconscious body. Kilik retracted the rod, and Siegfried fell to the ground.

Kilik rushed to his side and turned him over so that he was lying on his back. He slapped Siegfried's cheek a few times, with just enough sharpness to rouse him from slumber.

Siegfried's eyes slowly opened. Bright sunlight flooded the cracks between his eyelids, and he instinctively shut them. He forced his eyes open again, this time slower. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the face of a man that seemed familiar somehow.

"Please be calm. Can you understand me?"

"...Yes."

"My name is Kilik. You were possessed by evil. I landed a purifying blow on you, and cured you of the evil."

Siegfried became worried. "What happened?"

"I came when I sensed evil approaching. When I arrived, you were about to face three women in battle. It appeared you roughed them up a bit before I arrived, but none of them were heavily wounded."

"...I see. Thank you for curing me."

Siegfried felt a wetness on the right side of his face, and his right hand rose to touch it. He felt liquid, and drew his hand away from his face to see blood on his fingertips. His eyes went from the blood from the found from his old wound to Kilik's face. As if this sight triggered a resurgence in his memory, he recognized the man's face.

"...You're...that man who struck me down at Ostrheinsburg when I was Nightmare."

"...Then I was correct in assuming that you are the man who was once Nightmare."

"...Yes..." Siegfried was usually quick to inform those who knew of his previous form that he was no longer possessed by Soul Edge - but, after this man just saw him being possessed by evil, he did not feel as if it was the right time to make that statement.

"If I may ask, where is Soul Edge now?" Kilik asked.

Siegfried realized that he was not wearing the satchel that held the Soul Embrace. He looked around the platform, but it was not there. The last thing he could remember was standing on a ledge with Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia, and then feeling evil rousing within him. He had opened his mouth to warn them, but could not force words out. The evil force took control of him and removed the satchel so as to be better be able to move - and then his memory was blank.

Siegfried turned his head around and located the ledge that he had been standing on. He could see the satchel still sitting there.

"Soul Edge is up there." Siegfried said, pointing.

Kilik gripped the Kali-Yuga.

"Don't worry - it is harmless at the moment."

"...Harmless? How? Has it been purified?"

"No - actually, that's what we came here to..." He paused. "I believe that it would be better to explain things from the beginning...starting with a proper introduction.

Siegfried rose to his feet. "I am Siegfried Schtauffen."

"Master! Are you okay?"

Siegfried saw Tira's head poking up from over the edge of the platform. She scrambled onto it and ran towards him.

"...This is Tira." Siegfried said, gesturing to her.

"Master! You're okay, right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Siegfried said. "Thankfully, he was able to remove the evil without harming me."

Kilik seemed to stand up straighter at this comment. "Then, my training is complete." He said quietly and proudly to himself. He turned towards Siegfried. "She calls you 'Master'. Is she your apprentice?"

"...Apprentice? Well..." Siegfried always found it difficult to describe the nature of he and Tira's relationship to other people.

"There is one whom I call Master, as well." Kilik said.

"Really? Are you a slave, too?" Tira asked, eyes wide.

"...Slave?" Kilik asked, taken aback. "No, no. He does not own me; he merely teaches me. I call him 'Master' because he has a mastery over many different types of weaponry and combat styles. He instructs me in the ways of combat; I am his apprentice."

"...I see..." Tira said, thoroughly interested in this concept of a 'Master'.

"Are you dead, Siegfried?" A voice rang out.

"...That would be Ivy." Siegfried said with a mixture of irritation and fondness in his voice.

Ivy was the next to climb up onto the platform, and Siegfried deduced that there was a ladder positioned at that spot. She approached the three of them. "So, I see he managed to cure you without killing you."

"Yes, and it is nice to see you again, too, Ivy."

The next one up the ladder was Sophitia. "Siegfried!" She called out. "Are you all right?" She dashed to their position. Worry seemed to be etched into every inch of her face.

"Don't worry, Sophitia, I'm fine." Siegfried said.

"I'm so relieved! I was afraid that you'd never be your real self again..." There seemed to be something under Sophitia's words that Siegfried couldn't put his finger on, but he did not dwell on it long.

"Kilik, this is Sophitia. And Sophitia, this man who cured me is named Kilik."

"It's nice to meet you, Kilik."

"And it's nice to meet you, too - all of you." Kilik said. After these words, he seemed to be struggling with something. "I...hope it is not rude to bring this up so soon, but I really must inquire about Soul Edge again."

"Ah, yes. Let me retrieve that satchel up there, and then I'll explain everything."

---

Kilik's home was one of the shacks that were strewn across the proving grounds. It was small, but cozy, and offered protection from the cold air outside. Siegfried had set the satchel down in the center of the room on a small table that was surrounded by mats - an eastern dinner table. Siegfried, Kilik, and the rest took seats on the mats, and Siegfried began an explanation of what had happened to Soul Edge and Soul Calibur since Kilik had last seen them. When Siegfried came to the point in the story where Soul Edge and Soul Calibur merged, he revealed the satchel's contents.

Kilik's reaction to the sight of the Soul Embrace was unexpected. He seemed mortified and upset. When Siegfried asked him what was wrong, Kilik began a hasty and incomprehensible reply. He paused, and began again, speaking clearly.

Kilik told Siegfried and his companions about the Holy Trinity. He explained to them that he had grown up revering the Trinity, and seeing one of the treasures - the Krita-Yuga, better known as Soul Calibur - intermeshed with the grotesque and hideous monstrosity that was Soul Edge was an extremely unpleasant sight.

Kilik was distraught because he believed Soul Calibur to be trapped in Soul Edge. Siegfried consoled Kilik by telling him that Soul Calibur was not trapped; it was keeping Soul Edge at bay by negating its power, and that what Soul Calibur was doing was for the good of humanity. Kilik said little, but was apparently comforted by Siegfried's words.

"...Please continue. What has happened since then?"

"Soul Edge's power is nullified at the moment, but should it ever become separated from Soul Calibur, it will be a threat once more. Since the creation of the Soul Embrace, I have traveled far, seeking a way to destroy Soul Edge. So far, none of our attempts to do so have borne fruit, although we gain more knowledge with each of our endeavors - for example, I never would have known about the Holy Trinity, if I had not come here. There is one thing we have not yet tried - purification. And so-"

"And so you came here." Kilik said, finishing Siegfried's sentence for him. "Hoping to find a master of purification, I gather."

"That is right. Would I be correct to assume that you are one, yourself?"

"That is what I have spent these many years training to become..." Kilik said, with just a drop of uncertainty in his voice.

"...Kilik. Do you think you can do it? You have the Kali-Yuga and a shard of the Dvapara-Yuga. They should be able to help, shouldn't they?"

Kilik nodded. "They..._should_." Still, he seemed uncertain. He took a deep breath. "...Well, there's only one way to find out." He stood up.

"Are you going to do it right here? On a dinner table?" Ivy asked. "Shouldn't you do it on some kind of special pedestal?"

Kilik looked at her as if she had spoken another language. "...It really doesn't matter where it's done."

Ivy scoffed, looked away, and muttered something about traveling hundreds of miles to watch Soul Edge be purified on a dinner table and anticlimaxes.

Kilik prepared the Kali-Yuga for purification. The others scooted back. Kilik touched one end of the Kali-Yuga to the Soul Embrace, and closed his eyes.

Everyone waited anxiously. After a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, after half a minute, nothing happened. Then, after a full minute, still nothing happened.

Ivy leaned over towards Siegfried. "So, is he doing it?" She whispered. "I expected a bright flash of light or something."

Siegfried's eyes rolled up, and he shut his eyes tight.

"...Ivy?"

"Yes?"

"...Please be silent."

Ivy looked annoyed, and then turned her attention back to Kilik.

After two minutes, Kilik suddenly breathed out heavily. He seemed utterly exhausted. "It...it's not working." He said, in between gasps for air.

"Why not?"

"I can sense the evil energy there - and the good energy, too. But I can't do anything with either of them. The energy is trapped in the Soul Embrace, and won't leave. I can't transfer energy around, transform it, or even transfer energy into the Embrace. It's as if there is no energy at all, even though I can clearly sense it. The two swords truly are disabling one another from undergoing any sort of change whatsoever." He sat down, still seeming as if he was very fatigued.

"So, we can't change the energy of the swords in any way..." Siegfried said to himself.

Ivy did not have Siegfried's composure. "Don't be so casual about it! We wasted an extremely long trip just to learn a tiny fact! How can you sit there like nothing is wrong?"

"We are better off for making this trip, Ivy." Siegfried said. "Most importantly, Zasalamel's curse was lifted. If we had not come here, it would have consumed me. I could have, for example, wielded the Soul Embrace as a weapon, and..." There seemed no way of avoiding understatement in the conclusion to that sentence, and so Siegfried left it unfinished. "...And, we also learned about the Holy Trinity."

"Not that it did us any good..." Ivy scoffed.

A tense silence fell over the group.

"...I'm sorry." Kilik said.

"Don't feel as if it is your fault, Kilik." Siegfried said. "The Soul Embrace can't be changed."

"Do you think...that there is actually a threat?" Kilik asked. "If the Soul Embrace can't be changed..."

"There is always the unknown." Siegfried said cryptically. "We never know what kind of freak event could occur and unleash Soul Edge once more. We can't rest. We must assume that it is still a threat. I prefer to be cautious rather than regret not taking a precaution."

Kilik nodded. "I see. ...I still feel as if I have failed you, though. I feel as though I have failed my training...my Master...the people of the Ling Sheng Su temple...my redemption..."

"...Redemption?" Siegfried asked curiously.

Kilik did not seem like a very emotional person, but he bit his lip and seemed disturbed. A whisper left his lips. "...Xianglian..."

The group sat in silence, contemplating their situation. It was Siegfried who broke the silence.

"...Kilik, we will most likely be leaving this place soon. It is regrettable that our meeting was so brief. However, you did cure me of the evil that possessed me, and for that I am eternally grateful. It would be an honor if you would join us in our quest."

Once again, an unexpected reaction came from Kilik. He seemed stunned. "...What? No...No, I can't do that."

"You can't? Why not?"

"I have to find Xianghua." He said. "In her letter...In her letter, she said...'I know that we can do it, if we're together'. If her and I are together. I know that if I find her, then her and I can find a way to destroy Soul Edge. A way to separate the swords and purify the evil, or...or something else. I don't know what, but I know that we can do it. If we're together."

Siegfried had not seen Kilik speak with so much passion before. "...I see." He said. "That is where your path to redemption lies?"

"Yes. That is where my path lies."

"Then, I will not stop you."

"Wait. Wait!" Ivy blurted out suddenly. "He could be a valuable ally. Why aren't you trying to convince him to come with us?"

"I believe that this choice is more wise. He will not travel with us, but he will still be an ally. Our group is a reasonable size at the moment; it would be better for Kilik to go off and search for a way to destroy Soul Edge on his own while we do the same elsewhere, so that we have double the chance of finding a way."

"Yes, Siegfried, but there is just one problem with that - we're likely to be hundreds of miles apart. How are we going to find one another, should he discover a way?"

"The holders of the Holy Trinity are linked by fate." Kilik said, suddenly speaking up. "I hold two of the treasures, and I met Xianghua, who held the one I did not. I met Siegfried once before, and now I meet him again today - and while he is in possession of the Krita-Yuga, no less. The holders of the Holy Trinity are linked by fate; this has been proven."

Ivy scoffed. "Fate? There is no such thing as fate. One is in control of one's own destiny at all times."

"I am afraid I must disagree." Kilik said. "Some events are inevitable."

"Nothing determines the future!" Ivy retorted.

"There is a fixed natural order to the universe." Kilik countered.

"Silence, both of you." Siegfried said. "Arguing will get us nowhere. We are allies. I have faith in what Kilik says."

Ivy shook her head. "You fools are making a grand mistake. We shouldn't pass up the chance to join up, and we shouldn't split up - we'll never see each other again if we do!"

Siegfried and Kilik were silent. They'd already said all they had to say on the matter.

Ivy turned to Tira. "Do you ever feel like you're surrounded by - never mind, why am I asking _you_?" She turned to Sophitia. "Sophitia, you see the foolishness in this situation, don't you?"

Sophitia had mostly been silent, but she now spoke up. "...Kilik."

"Yes?"

"The woman you mentioned...Xianghua."

"...Yes?"

"Do you...love her?"

A short silence fell over the group.

"...I..." Kilik began. "...I'm not sure...what I would call my feelings for her. I do feel affection for her. We are devoted to one another. We care for one another, we...I feel for her like I did for Xianglian, but, unlike Xianglian, I do not see Xianghua as a sister."

"If Xianghua chose another to be her lover, how would you feel?"

Kilik's face flushed red. "I - I don't see any point to these questions!"

"If you love Xianghua, then I don't want you to come with us." Sophitia said. "If you're in love, then I want you to go find the one whom you love, and be with her. Always. And never betray her. If she disappoints you, work out your differences. Don't harbor bad feelings inside until they are released in a destructive way. That is what I think; I think that if you love someone, you should be with them instead of away from them."

Kilik still seemed terribly embarrassed, but was concentrating deeply on Sophitia's words, and gently nodding his head in understanding and agreement.

"If you are to leave here to find the woman you love, you must promise me something first."

Kilik looked up at Sophitia, puzzled as to what she could wish him to promise her.

"...Promise me that you'll be loyal to her, and won't ever betray her trust."

Kilik was silent for a moment, and then spoke. "...I promise."

Sophitia smiled warmly. "Good."

Ivy looked back and forth at all the faces in the room. "Since when did you people get so hung up on romantically seeking your fate or loved one?"

Siegfried ignored her, and rose to his feet. "Kilik, it has been an honor to meet you. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors."

Kilik rose as well. "I am honored to have met you, as well, and I cannot wish you enough luck and safety."

"...That's it? We're going?" Ivy asked.

"And, Sophitia - I'll remember my promise."

Sophitia smiled and gave an acknowledging nod.

Siegfried gathered up the Soul Embrace, and the group left Kilik's shack. They said farewell a final time, and then embarked on their separate journeys.


	22. The Immortal Pirate

_"This is getting terribly repetitive." Ivy spat. "We travel hundreds of miles to some obscure location on a hunch, find someone who can tell us a lot but do little for us, fail to destroy Soul Edge yet again, and then leave to repeat the process. This really needs to stop."_

_"It's not as easy as you make it sound, Ivy. If you know of a better alternative, then please feel free to speak up. In fact, if _anyone_ has any better ideas, I'd like to hear them. If not, I'd like to stop hearing complaints about how we are doing things."_

_"...Um..."_

_"...Tira? What is it?"_

_"Master, you said, if anyone has an idea, you'd like to hear it?"_

_"Yes."_

_"...I have an idea."_

_"You do? Well, go ahead, then."_

_"Haha. This should be rich..."_

_"Shh! Let her speak."_

_"...I was thinking...um...why don't we just...drop it the ocean?"_

_"..."_

_"...I'm sorry for bringing up the idea. I knew it was a foolish-"_

_"No! That's brilliant! That's genius!"_

_"...Ivy?"_

_"I can't believe I didn't think of this myself! We'll sail out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and chuck it right into the water! It'll sink to the bottom of the sea, and no one will ever be able to see it again! It'll be the end of Soul Edge, and then we'll finally be done with this nonsense!" _

_"...Ivy, I'm not sure about this idea. It's...original, to be sure, but I don't think.."_

_"How about this: for a full day, we'll all try to think up something better. If we can't think of a better idea, then we go with Tira's plan."_

---

During the late 1500s, the mighty Spanish armada known as la Armada Invencible - the Invincible Fleet - held supremacy over the Atlantic Ocean. However, sometimes even the Spanish armada was not enough to combat some threats, or was unsuited to dealing with certain problems. In those situations is where the privateers came in.

A "privateer" was a private ship (or its captain) authorized by a country's government to attack and seize cargo from another country's ships. Sir Phillip Leon was one such privateer. He commanded a proud ship with a special commission from the Spanish King to loot in the name of Spain. He bore one son.

He named his son "Cervantes".

Most of Phillip's reputation as an expert seafarer was owed to his crew - or, rather, his expertise at handling a crew. The advice he always gave his son was that "a sailor must always be strong and gentle." He believed that if a captain was strong with both his crew and with the sea, he would master and earn the respect of both, and that if a captain is gentle with his crew as well, he will earn their friendship as much as their respect. Cervantes revered his father greatly, and was very proud to have him as his parent.

He was devastated when his father died at sea.

Phillip's ship had moved alongside an English merchant ship in order to plunder it. Unbeknownst to him, the ship was actually an English warship, disguised to lure in Phillip to kill him.

The English ship's cannon shells shattered the Spanish galleon, and Captain Phillip de Leon died in the attack. The only remains of him that were salvageable were his hat.

When the young Cervantes received his father's hat, his gaze was fixed upon it for a long time.

_He always advocated being a gentle, friendly, respectable person, yet no one cared about the quality of his person. He was chosen for his position because he was an expert seafarer, and he was targeted to be killed for the same reason. His character and his loyalty to the crown got him nothing but a grave at the bottom of the sea. I will not suffer the same fate. I will not be gentle, and I will swear no allegiances._

This young man would grow up to become the most feared pirate on the seven seas, Captain Cervantes de Leon, the Dread Pirate, a threat to anyone who sailed the ocean. He started a reign of terror across the Atlantic in his ship, the Adrian, showing no mercy to anyone, even those in the Invincible Armada. The smallest whisper of his name would strike fear into even the grandest of naval fleets.

One day, a messenger of the Merchant of Death, Vercci, entered Cervantes' haunt, an inn called the Black Tail.

He told the pirate of Vercci's search for the legendary weapon, Soul Edge. The messenger promised an exceptional reward for the recovery of the two swords that composed the weapon. However, Cervantes did not like the idea of working for anyone.

Cervantes finally accepted the offer, deciding that it would be a lark. A year passed with no great advances, until he finally came across some information.

At a secret antiques auction, an Englishman had made a successful bid on a strange article said to be a set of legendary swords. There was no conclusive evidence that this was Soul Edge, but as a pirate, Cervantes found himself unable to pass up the opportunity. He made plans to intercept the ship.

The sea was stormy as the Adrian set sail after the passenger ship. The boom of cannonfire echoed across the stormy sea. Columns of water surrounded the passenger ship in the spots where the cannonballs had struck.

When it was time, the Adrian came along side the Englishman's ship. Cervantes raised his cutlass, rallied his bloodthirsty crew, and boarded the ship. Before long, Cervantes succeeded in locating Soul Edge aboard the ship.

At this point in time, Soul Edge was in a state that could be compared to dormancy, as it awaited a proper host to come into possession of it. When Cervantes extended his arms and grasped the hilts of the two blades, Soul Edge sensed its new owner. This man was far more powerful than the weaklings who had handled it in recent years. His body was old, but physically fit. Although there was more to desire, this man was adequate. It had found its next host.

As soon as Cervantes laid his hands on the swords, Soul Edge possessed him. He lost his free will and awareness instantly, and became nothing more than Soul Edge's puppet.

Soul Edge was hungry for souls, and so Cervantes immediately began to slaughter everyone around him - not only the crew of the passenger ship, but his own crew, as well. Not a single soul survived the massacre that stormy night - save for one small boy, but his soul would not have provided much of a meal for Soul Edge, anyway.

After the bloodshed on the seas, he boarded his ship once more, sailed it to his port base in Spain, and slaughtered all who resided there. Temporarily satisfied with its twisted desire to consume souls, the evil swords had Cervantes rest himself at the remains of the Black Tail Inn. As the evil swords rested, they slowly prepared a plan to create a new host...

During the next twenty years, the rumors of the evil swords spread throughout the world. Some believed it was a sword of salvation, while others called it the ultimate weapon. And yet others sought Soul Edge for personal reasons. Few reached Soul Edge; and those that did had their souls devoured by the evil swords.

The demonic blades did not commit massacres to satisfy their appetite for souls, but it was only a matter of time before the dark storm of Soul Edge would terrorize Europe...and Cervantes' destiny was to stand in the eye of that storm, with both blades in hand.

Eventually, there was one who managed to bring about the end of Cervantes' reign...Sophitia, the sacred fighter of Hephaestus. During a grueling battle with Cervantes, she succeeded in destroying one of the twin swords. When one of the swords was shattered, Cervantes felt pain and wrath as if a part of him had been destroyed as well. By losing its companion blade, Soul Edge lost its natural equilibrium. Due to Soul Edge's loss of control over Cervantes from the destruction of one of the blades, Cervantes was not able to survive the intense battle that followed.

Soul Edge was extremely displeased at the loss of its host. Soon, another being approached the scene where the battle had taken place - a young man, whose soul was immature and weak. If this man grasped the hilt of the remaining blade of Soul Edge, the sword would lose most of its power to compensate for how much power the young man's body and soul could handle. This result would be unacceptable.

Soul Edge gathered up its remaining energy. The corpse of Cervantes de Leon became enveloped in the flames of hell as he was brought back from the dead to do the will of Soul Edge once more. Mortal combat began. Madness shined in the young man's eyes, he raised a sword that seemed too large for him to wield, and defended himself. When the battle ended, all that remained was the burnt corpse of a pirate captain and a young man grasping a now shattered Zweihander. When that young man would become a host for Soul Edge himself, he would by far surpass Cervantes in dreadfulness and evil.

However, the story of Captain Cervantes de Leon does not end here. His soul was not freed by the destruction of his corporeal form.

Some time passed before Soul Edge's new host once again passed by Cervantes' ashen remains. As Soul Edge neared the remains of its former host, the fragments of Soul Edge that had cut into Cervantes' flesh at the moment of its destruction began to resonate. The shards of Soul Edge came to life, and began to move around Cervantes' remains. After a day had passed, the corpse was once again able to stand. Cervantes had returned to this world.

However, there were only a few fragments embedded in Cervantes' flesh. Although he was resurrected, his mind was not whole. He had lost his memories. Cervantes barely remembered the name of his good ship, the Adrian, from his days as a pirate. His ship was now a half-derelict vessel anchored at port...

Cervantes lived amongst the ruins of the port, unable to even remember his name. But his memories eventually returned to him.

One night, while standing in the middle of a storm, he recalled a storm just like it, and then recalled a memory of attacking a ship in that storm. He remembered the loot he took from his hapless victims...and the two swords he held in his hands!

Cervantes' memories gradually began to return, and as they did, so did his desire to possess the great power of Soul Edge once again. Although he recalled the loss of his free will to the power, it still appealed to him. As a man who was resurrected by the fragments of the evil blade, he sensed the resonance of the other blade. Surprisingly at first, the signs of the other blade were scattered in various locations. But, he realized, this was to be expected, given that one of the blades splintered into many fragments when it was destroyed.

Cervantes set out to follow a strong sign of the evil blade. But, as he closed in on that sign, he sensed that Soul Edge's presence was splintered even more. Could the other Soul Edge have been shattered, as well? Cervantes finally arrived at the location of the evil energy, and discovered terrible news. His premonition was correct.

He picked up several pieces of the newly created shards, and gazed upon them. Was his desire to possess that power again for naught?

That was when Cervantes sensed something strange. Two pieces of the sword in his palm began to resonate with his body, and then began to melt into one. He immediately reached out for another shard...that piece joined the other piece, as well. Cervantes realized that the fragments within him caused this resonance to occur with the others. He also sensed what seemed almost like a cry of joy that rose from the sword fragments within him. At that moment, he knew very well what was necessary to restore Soul Edge's powers.

He sought out powerful warriors, defeated them, and consumed their souls. He found new pieces of the sword to increase the power of Soul Edge. In time, the fragments assumed the shape of a sword, and began to emanate an evil aura in proportion to its physical size. But, unlike the first time Cervantes held Soul Edge, this time he was able to wield the demonic blade without ceding his will to it - the pieces of the sword within him gave him this ability.

After a grueling four years, Cervantes had succeeded in restoring Soul Edge to its original form. He set sail in the Adrian and once again terrorized the Atlantic. Control of that ocean had been shifting from his homeland of Spain to the countries to the north, but even this great wave of history was nothing more than surf upon the shore to Cervantes. No matter what flag others flew, be it merchant vessel or ship of war, all were merely prey in his eyes.

What he sought now, however, was not monetary treasure, but nourishment to help the cursed sword grow - the souls of strong men of the sea who had toughened themselves upon the raging waves.

Ships attacked by the Adrian disappeared completely into watery graves. A new chapter was added to the legend of the great pirate Cervantes: a tale of a demonic ghost ship and its inhuman captain.

Everything had been proceeding smoothly...up until one fateful day. The unusually stormy sea was perhaps a premonition of what was to come. Cervantes avoided the tempest by mooring the Adrian in a cliff opening. That was when it happened.

The presence of the other half of Soul Edge suddenly disappeared. Recently, it had felt stronger than it ever had, and yet now he could not feel it at all. Then, a terrible change began to occur in his body - his skin and the ends of his limbs changed color, and, little by little, began to crumble! He could tell that the fragments of the cursed sword within his body that had acted as his source of life were losing their power. At this rate, his body would eventually turn back into a scorched corpse. The very power of the cursed sword itself he held was weakening.

Panicking, he sought after the faint remainder of evil energy. He sensed that the power given off by the other cursed sword was being held back by some great power. But what entity could possibly possess such power as this?

He had never thought that his immortal self would feel the fear of death. Cervantes' face wore a troubled expression, one he had not shown in a very long time. He could probably delay his inevitable extinction for a short while by absorbing new souls.

And thus, amongst the men of the sea, a rumor began to circulate that the great pirate Cervantes had hidden an enormous treasure in a cave near the coast of Spain. Naturally, this story was merely bait scattered by Cervantes in order to gather souls to feed to Soul Edge, but it brought a never-ending stream of pirate ships to Cervantes' hideout.

One stormy night at sea, as Cervantes waited in his cave like a spider waiting for insects to fly into his web, he sensed strange energy approaching him from afar. The energy reminded him of Soul Edge, but yet it was not Soul Edge. At the same time, there was an odd sensation as if there was nothing to be sensed at all.

As Cervantes attempted to determine what this could mean, he suddenly heard a voice.

"Doth thou desire the power?"

The impudently spoken words had come from above his head. Turning to the voice's source, Cervantes saw a man clad in a white robe and holding a long scythe standing atop on the Adrian's mast.

Cervantes was disturbed that he had not noticed the intruder. But, more than he was surprised by the man's dexterity or stealth, he was angered.

"And just who in the hell are you!" He growled. In response to Cervantes' intimidating voice, the man responded calmly.

"I am of no concern to you." The man said in a cold tone, but with an emotionless face. "It is commendable indeed that you have managed to restore the sword as much as you have and prolong your body's deterioration, but, in their current states, neither the sword nor your body have adequate power to surmount the tasks that will soon befall you."

"...What are you rambling on about? Do you mean to mock me?" His voice was filled with violent intent.

"Killing me would do you no good, even if you had the strength to do so." The man said calmly. "Those whom you should think of killing are those whose deaths and possessions you would benefit from."

"Stop speaking in cryptic riddles!" Cervantes growled. "Speak clearly or begone!"

"An entity that has the power to oppose Soul Edge had appeared from hiding, and has temporarily killed Soul Edge."

Cervantes' mood changed instantly. "...What?"

"The two entities are now one. Their current physical states and energy cannot be changed until they are separated."

"...And why do you tell me this?" Cervantes asked warily.

"A ship will be passing by here soon. Aboard this ship are your worst enemies, who are in possession of the lifeless Soul Edge. In one fell swoop, you can destroy them, and take Soul Edge for yourself."

Cervantes was still extremely skeptical, but his curiosity pushed him forward. "...Who do you refer to when you say 'worst enemies'?"

"They are warriors on a quest to stamp out Soul Edge, and thus they are a threat to you above all others. Among them is the holy warrior whom shattered Soul Edge, the man whom was Soul Edge's host after you, and a potential host for Soul Edge - your spiteful daughter. All of these people seek the complete eradication of Soul Edge."

"...Daughter?" Cervantes asked. "...I...have a daughter?" He began to search his memories for anything with a connection to this news. He had a faint memory that might explain things. When Soul Edge had controlled him, he'd raped a woman and then let her escape. He had not often thought of this, but it did strike him as curious that Soul Edge would desire for him to commit such an act; he didn't think that the sword hungered for anything more than souls.

"Will this be a problem?" The mysterious man asked.

"...No. I feel no parental love or responsibility for a daughter I never wanted, and never knew I had. And if Soul Edge desires to fall out of my hands and into hers, then I will simply have to kill her. ...But, I have questions for you. Who are you? What do you want? Why are you telling me these things?"

"As I have said before, my identity is of no concern to you. What I seek is nothing more than the destruction of the souls aboard that ship. I tell you these things because I cannot risk my own existence."

"...Then you're a coward!"

"You have experienced death only once. You know what it is like. Do you know how many times I have experienced death? Hundreds of times; and it is worse with each occurrence." These words were the closest the man had come so far to displaying emotion. Indeed, there did seem to be deep feelings hidden beneath his words.

"...I have no intention of binding myself to anyone else's purposes."

"You need not worry. I ask nothing more of you than to kill your enemies."

"...And what of Soul Edge?"

"If Soul Edge falls into your hands, this is of no consequence to me." The man said. Cervantes could detect sinister intentions lying beneath these words - was it a lie? Or did this man plan to take Soul Edge from Cervantes after he had obtained it?

"And how do I intercept this ship?"

"Can you sense something that feels like Soul Edge approaching you from afar?"

"...Yes."

"Sail your ship towards that sensation, and you will intercept the ship."

Cervantes scoffed. "I was going to inspect that anyway."

"I know. But if you were to do so the way you are now, you would perish..."

"...What do you mean?"

"You are not powerful enough to defeat them. They would destroy you if you fought them. This is why I am here. I ask you - doth thou desire the power?"

"There you go again, speaking in riddles!"

"I can give you power. I can return your strength to what it once was. I can make you powerful enough to destroy them ten times over."

"...And what do you ask for, in return?" Cervantes asked, suspecting a catch.

"Nothing. Nothing more than that you intercept and kill your enemies."

The man held out his hand. It began to glow purple, and then a bright beam shot from his palm into Cervantes' chest. At first, Cervantes thought that this was an attack, but then realized that he did not feel pain - he felt power. He felt himself becoming endowed with a massive amount of energy and strength.

"Do not fail; those souls took a long time to reap." The man said. With these words, for a moment Cervantes was almost convinced for a moment that the man with the scythe was the Grim Reaper himself.

With this, the man jumped backwards from his perch on the mast, into the darkness of the night. Cervantes turned his head left and right, but could not see where the man had landed - he had disappeared completely.

After taking a moment to think over the events that had just transpired, Cervantes grasped his ship's wheel, and turned its rudder.

The bow of the Adrian now pointed towards the Soul Embrace.


	23. No Regrets

Siegfried, Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia had bought the services of a ship and its crew.

Their original plan was to obtain only a ship, but because none of them knew very much about the skillful art of controlling the motion of a boat across a body of water, they decided that it would be much wiser to buy the services of a crew as well.

In a Spanish port, they found a crew of a ship that were offering themselves for work. Siegfried and the rest approached the crew and requested to be sailed out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and back as quickly as possible and with absolutely no questions asked. At first, the crewmen thought that their request was a joke, but when Siegfried and the rest proved extremely willing to pay a large sum of money for their services, the crew did not hesitate to agree.

They had exhausted nearly all of their funds to pay for the journey, mostly using the money they had won at the Arena a while back, but their impending poverty did not seem to be very important to them; money had meant little to Siegfried, Ivy, and Tira for several years now. Besides that, as large as the sum of money was, it was a small price to pay for a solution to Soul Edge at long last.

The ship they were on was a two-mast ship, compact for its time, but it was fast and sturdy, and would get the job done nicely.

Or, at least, it would have.

---

As if hinting at the fate of the ship, about a day into the journey, the wind increased in strength, and a storm began to brew. As time passed, the storm grew in intensity, and soon the sky was dark with black clouds and raging waves crashed against the ship's hull as heavy rain fell upon its deck, the flashes of lightning and the booms of thunder punctuating the scene. Siegfried and the others began to question their safety, but the crew confidently assured them that they were going to be fine, and that they had encountered far worse storms.

However, they had never encountered an immortal pirate.

Seemingly at the exact moment the chaos of the storm reached is zenith, a shout rang out that made the situation all the more worse:

"PIRATE RAID!"

Upon hearing these words shouted from the deck above, Siegfried and the others rushed from the cabin in the belly of the ship to its deck. The dark clouds blanketing the sky blotted out nearly all light, and the heavy rain made it a difficult task just to keep one's eyes open, but it was still possible to see a ways off into the sea. Siegfried could see the silhouette of a ship approaching from a ways off.

The rest of the ship's crew - about twenty brawny men - had assembled on the deck by now. They chattered back and forth to one another, some of them panicking. "Are you s-sure it's a pirate ship?" One asked.

The captain of the crew answered. "Aye - you can tell by the sail they fly. Black, with a skull and crossed swords. A sail with that insignia boldly declares the intentions of all men aboard the ship: no life will be spared, no quarter will be given, and no quarter will be asked. If they don't intend to spare us, we won't spare any of them. If they won't give us any quarter, they won't get any from us. Rally, men! Raise your swords! Hell if those pirates will get the better of any of us!"

Invigorated by their captain's speech, the men unsheathed weapons and pumped their fists into the air, giving hearty cries.

In the distance, off in the direction of the approaching pirate ship, something that sounded almost like a laugh could be heard.

"Fools!" A voice bellowed from the ship. "Your zeal is in vain! I'll gut each and every one of you, and devour your souls!"

Chatter on the ship resumed. "Did you hear what he shouted to us?"

"What'd he say?"

"Something about...souls?"

"...S...souls...no...it couldn't be...Cervantes?"

All it took was one panicked man to utter a name, and immediately that name was on the tongue of every man present.

"Cervantes! It's Cervantes?"

"You mean, the Valencia Butcher?"

"Cervantes, the Terror of the Atlantic?"

"Surely it can't be the Immortal Pirate!"

"SILENCE!" The captain bellowed. "Are you little girls or men? Would a real man of the sea let some dead pirate's name frighten him? Nay! Pull yourselves together! Cervantes is long dead, and no man aboard this ship will die tonight!"

"But Cervantes isn't dead; he's immortal!"

"Look! Look, over there! At the top of their crow's nest!"

All heads turned to see what the crewman was indicating. They saw what appeared to be two balls of fire were circling a glowing orb above the crow's nest of the pirate ship.

"Look! It's magic! They use magic!"

"No, that must be Cervantes!"

"How is that ship approaching so fast? It's not even heading downwind!"

"It's moving with magic! Magic, I tell you!"

"We're all going to die!"

The ship's mysterious properties had escalated the men's panic to a level that not even their eloquent captain could draw them back from. The scene was a mess of noise - the captain's shouting over his men's panicked screaming, heavy rain and wind hitting the deck of the ship, and thunderclaps as lightning shot across the black sky. However, the panicked screaming came to a very sudden end in a single moment.

With a loud slicing sound, a sword appeared on the deck of the ship, its blade sticking into the wood floorboards. The crew realized that it hadn't magically appeared; it was propelled there from the pirate ship. A moment after it had landed on the deck, another sword soon joined it - a much larger, sinister sword that looked as evil and foreboding as death, but at the same time, seduced most of the crew at first sight. Sophitia recognized it instantly.

"...That's...Soul Edge!"

With a hard _thunk_, a figure dropped down beside the two swords, kneeled between them. He gripped the hilts of the weapons with powerful arms, and slowly rose up. He wore an extravagant pirate hat atop his head, but it did not lend any frivolity to his appearance. His hair was a messy mane of white, and his skin was a sickly and diseased color that was almost purple in hue. He wore a long, tattered cape that flitted about as the strong winds blew past him. When he had risen up straight, he held his swords with his arms crossed, and looked like a personification of the deadly symbol on his flag.

The sword in his right hand bore a peculiar handle - it seemed to be a small pistol with a sword blade attached to the top. But the blade he wielded in his left hand was far more significant. It was not as large as its brother had been in the hands of Nightmare, but it was still of considerable size. The main portion of the sword was just as meaty and fleshy as its other half, and the hilt of the sword seemed to be composed of shell-like layers.

However, except for the strange allure of the sinister sword, the crew cared little about the swords that this man wielded. They had never seen him in person, and very few firsthand descriptions of him existed, but right away, each of these men knew who stood before them.

"...Cervantes!"

The men flew into a panic. Some dashed forward in an attempt to stab Cervantes as quick as they could. Others froze in horror where they were standing. And yet others poised themselves to jump overboard or take their own lives.

However, no crewmember aboard the ship was lucky enough to take his own life.

Cervantes destroyed the men who chose to charge at him with a single swipe of Soul Edge - he swung it broadly and horizontally, and it passed right through the bodies of his attackers, separating their upper bodies from their lower halves. The men who had remained unmoving since Cervantes' appearance were nothing but sitting targets to him - he dashed from one to another faster than the eye could see, pausing only to administer a creative deathblow to each one - a decapitation to one, an impaling to another, one man left with stumps where his limbs once were, and other gruesome fates that were even worse. Not a single man managed to jump overboard - while still in one piece. Cervantes' swords had run through every man once - sometimes twice - before more than ten seconds had passed since his arrival.

Siegfried and the others had unsheathed their weapons and prepared to defend the crew, but were incapable of doing so. Each time they caught sight of Cervantes and took a step toward him, he seemingly vanished, only to appear on the opposite side of the deck, gutting another victim. It was utterly impossible for one's eyes to keep track of the deadly pirate as he moved from victim to victim with superhuman speed.

Then, all at once, his rapid massacre ended, when there were simply no more men left to slay. Cervantes stood on the middle of the deck, holding his swords with his arms crossed, while dismembered corpses and limbs fell down around him. Finally, except for the wind, rain and the heaving of the ship, the scene was still.

"...Pathetic." Cervantes suddenly spat. "They were all so weak...they didn't stand a chance against me! I have no need for weak souls..." He turned his eyes on Siegfried and the rest. "...Not much to look at. I was expecting more. No matter...all of you will die just the same."

Something in between a yelp and a gasp came from Sophitia's mouth. "H-how!"

"...Ah...the holy warrior..." Cervantes smirked arrogantly. "I must thank you. If you had not shattered the blade, I would never have been freed from its control to later control it myself."

Siegfried assumed an aggressive fighting stance, and held his sword ready for an attack - given his usual desire for pacifism, it was a stance he was very rarely seen in, and it was obvious that Siegfried was not concerned with anything less than the complete destruction of the man who stood before him.

"...And, you..." Cervantes said, turning to Siegfried, and disregarding his fighting stance. "I remember you, as well...You were just a lad when we first fought. You bested me because I was little more than a flaming corpse - I assure you that this time, things will be very different."

Cervantes shifted to a casual stance. "I hear you have Soul Edge with you. Is this correct?"

"We will not share any words, you abomination." Siegfried said coldly. Cervantes' massacre had disturbed him deeply - it had most likely brought back memories of the scenes he would awake to when he had been possessed by Nightmare.

"...Very well, then. I suppose that I'll just have to find out the hard way - the fun way." He grinned, and once more assumed a fighting stance.

Suddenly, Cervantes dashed from the point he stood such an incredible speed that he splintered the wood beneath his feet as he dashed across the deck. Acting on reflex, Siegfried raised his sword and blocked an impending blow from Cervantes. Cervantes swung again, and Siegfried parried the blow by the tiniest of margins, but Cervantes' next attack proved to be more than he could handle. The flat side of Soul Edge slammed into Siegfried, knocking him aside, bringing his head crashing into the ship's railing, and rendering him unconscious.

Sophitia raised her sword and swung at the blade of Soul Edge that Cervantes clutched. She swung the sword with every ounce of strength in her body, but Cervantes blocked the blow as if it Sophitia had merely swung a feather at him. He returned her swing with one of his own. Sophitia managed to block the attack with her shield, but was unable to control the backwards momentum that resulted from blocking the attack. Her own shield bounced back and slammed sideways into her jaw, turning her head to the side sharply, and knocking her out.

Infuriated at the one who had hurt her Master, Tira was the next to attack. She placed her ring blade around her body, and leapt at Cervantes, planning for a unique attack - but her efforts fell the shortest. As she charged at him, Cervantes merely dropped his pistol sword, grabbed her ring blade without so much as a wince, and flung it at one of the ship's masts. Since Tira had been inside of the ring blade at the time, it carried her with it - by her neck. It sliced almost clean through one of the ship's thick masts, and only stopped because Tira's neck was in the way and didn't allow it to go the full way through. Tira was unable to breathe. She grasped at the ring blade and tried to pull it away from her neck, but it was exceedingly difficult to grasp and pull a razor-sharp and razor-thin surface. With bleeding hands, she managed to pull the ring blade away from her neck enough to allow her to breathe again, but her body fell limp soon afterwards. She'd fainted from the lack of oxygen she'd sustained while unable to breathe, and would not wake up for a while longer.

With Siegfried, Tira, and Sophitia down, Cervantes and Ivy were the only ones standing aboard the deck of the ship. Each one stood poised to attack the other, yet neither of them did anything. They stood as still as statues.

As if to personify the elevated tension, the storm had increased in intensity, as well. Two enormous waterspouts - small tornados over water - had formed around the ships, and were slowly circling them, as if waiting to consume the loser of the ensuing battle.

The 'taint' of Soul Edge that was inside of each of them allowed them to sense other things that were also tainted with Soul Edge, and this ability easily allowed them to see that they were related to one another by blood. Ivy knew this very well, but despite this, she was unable to prevent herself from asking the question.

"...Are you really..." She paused. "...my father?"

It was a moment before Cervantes responded. "...It would seem that way." He muttered indifferently.

There was more silence between the two of them. "...Who is...my mother?"

"Don't get your hopes up for finding her - if she were still alive, I would be able to sense her, since she carried the same taint after you were conceived. She's long dead by now. To answer your next question, if I recall correctly, she was the daughter of the owner of an inn called the Black Tail."

"That wasn't going to be my next question. I was going to ask...what the circumstances were."

Cervantes grinned. "I raped her."

Ivy's body gave a very visible twitch, but she remained still.

"Soul Edge wanted to create a spare host - so it had me make you. That's all there is to it. If you were expecting some long story to soothe years' worth of pain...sorry, but you're out of luck!" Cervantes threw his head back and laughed, his cold words piercing Ivy deeper than any sword blow could have. She said nothing but gripped her snake sword tighter.

Cervantes continued, a smug smirk on his face. "Don't feel bad about what I did to your mother - she had it coming. She was a waitress at the inn's tavern, and from what I remember, she was quite a slut."

"...S...stop it..."

"But, whenever a man would make a pass at her, she'd act like it made her upset, and slap him. And there wasn't a thing anyone could do about it, because her old man ran the place. After a while, pretty much every one of the inn's patrons hated the dumb bitch..."

"...Stop...stop talking...!..."

Cervantes grinned, proud of the reaction he was garnering from Ivy, and delivered the _coup de grâce. _"So, don't feel bad about what I did. She was probably gonna get raped anyway."

"...SHUT UP!"

Ivy leapt forward towards Cervantes, snake sword raised. She swung the sword at him, but he blocked the blow with both of his own swords.

Cervantes threw a flurry of vertical slashes at Ivy, but she jumped back to avoid them and raised her sword to block the ones she couldn't dodge.

Cervantes finally caught her by slashing at her with one sword while slashing the other in the direction he expected her to dodge in. Ivy shrieked in pain when his sword cut her, but she did not give up.

The two continued to trade blows, and Cervantes continued to get the better of Ivy. While she was focused on parrying his sword blows, he caught her off guard with kicks. When she tried to sidestep around him to attack from a blind side, he allowed her to do so, but then thrust his swords behind his back to stab her. Ivy's body was slowly becoming covered in cuts.

"If you didn't want to sustain so many wounds, you might have thought of wearing more clothing. What are you, a whore? I guess you inherited that from your mother."

Ivy's wounds were causing her to move sluggishly, and so Cervantes began to use his speed to his advantage. He spun around while swinging his swords, delivering many blows quickly, too fast for Ivy to block; holding her sword out in front of her in defense became the most she could do.

Seeing that his victory was in sight, Cervantes lunged forward for a deathblow. But then, Ivy suddenly moved with surprising speed around to his backside, and struck him in the back. She had been faking most of her fatigue in order to deliver that surprise blow - but it affected Cervantes little.

Cervantes decided that if Ivy was going to play that rough, then he would hold back no longer. He gathered power, his arms beginning to spark slightly with electricity and his swords glowing. He charged forward, quickly swiped his sword horizontally, catching Ivy in the side, and knocking her over. As she fell, he swung his sword up, catching her in the gut with the flat of his blade and knocking her upwards into the air. While she was still in midair, he aimed his pistol sword at her, and fired a bullet that went through her shoulder. Ivy fell back down to the deck of the ship. Cervantes began to approach her for a final blow, and Ivy scooted backwards to avoid him, until she was sitting up against the railing of the ship.

Cervantes was intrigued by Ivy's actions. He threw back his head again and gave a long, hearty laugh. "You were so eager to fight me a moment ago - and now you cower in fear? HA! I'm disappointed in you...what a useless daughter you are."

Ivy merely gasped for breath and clutched the bullet wound in her shoulder.

"You're not only a useless daughter...you're a completely useless person, as well. Your existence no longer has any meaning. You were born to serve a purpose, but now you'll never be able to fulfill it - you're completely worthless now."

"...Stop..."

"I didn't even want you to be born. You're a totally unwanted person. You never should have been born in the first place!"

"...S-stop...!..."

"You're a truly pathetic sight; the perfect definition of a waste of human life. Unwanted, undesired...you're no different than garbage. You're nothing but trash."

"...Y-YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

With a sudden burst of energy, Ivy leapt up and lunged towards Cervantes, her snake sword held straight out. He raised a sword to deflect her blow. Ivy's sword clipped against Cervantes', but it wasn't enough to stop her sword's movement. With its path only slightly altered, it carried past Cervantes' sword and sliced into his cheek.

"Agh!"

Ivy followed up with diagonal swings of her sword. Cervantes raised his sword to block them, but unlike before, every time Ivy's sword hit Cervantes', she'd turn his sword aside and nearly land a hit. Ivy's swings were now so wide that every time she swung her sword, wood from the ship's deck or railing would splinter.

Cervantes tried to counterattack, but every time he swung his sword against Ivy's, hers would not move, and she would follow his attacks quickly with one of her own. Ivy continued to aggressively assault Cervantes with a hail of attacks, and he had to struggle to deflect each one - and even then, some attacks would get through and stab into his body.

Ivy's attacks were knocking Cervantes back, and often he'd have to walk backwards to avoid the full force of her blows. Eventually, he was walking alongside the railing of the ship. A heavy blow from Ivy knocked his pistol sword from his hands and forced him to his knees. Cervantes held onto the railing of the ship with one hand, holding Soul Edge up with his other hand in an attempt to shield himself from Ivy's attacks. Ivy continued to assault him like a madwoman, continually bringing her sword crashing into Soul Edge over and over.

Gradually, cracks began to appear in Soul Edge. Tiny pieces of it began to chip off, and soon larger shards were breaking off of it. The more Ivy relentlessly smashed her sword against his, the more pieces of Soul Edge broke off and clattered to the side. Eventually, Ivy had chipped so much off the sword that it was now half of its previous size, and Cervantes was barely able to defend himself using it. With a few decisive blows, she created enough cracks in Soul Edge that it fell apart on its own. Cervantes was left clutching the hilt of a sword - and with another blow from Ivy, he lost even that.

Cervantes now had no weapon with which to defend himself. Ivy continued to swing her sword downwards upon him nonstop, and now that there was nothing blocking her attacks, her swings became lethal.

Each swing sliced into Cervantes' body, cutting deep into him. Cervantes tried to defend himself against her attacks using his bare hands, and screamed in agony when his attempts resulted in him losing fingers. Ivy's sword eventually cut through many of his tendons, preventing him from moving his arms or legs without extreme effort. Finally, her sword pierced his heart - after it had pierced nearly every other vital organ that Cervantes possessed. Cervantes still managed to live somehow, mostly due to the shards of Soul Edge within him - but as Ivy's blade pierced him over and over, she would occasionally dislodge a shard from his body, and eventually not even the power of Soul Edge could keep Cervantes' mangled body alive.

Even after Cervantes was finally dead, Ivy continued to bash her sword into his mutilated form. Her fatigue caused a blow to miss and strike the wooden railing that Cervantes' body had been slumped up against. The railing broke and Cervantes' body fell off the ship, was slammed against the hull by a powerful wave, breaking what bones in his body weren't already broken, and then sunk to the murky depths of the sea. Ivy kicked what pieces remained of him off of the deck of the ship, and then turned her eyes to a shard of Soul Edge that lay at her feet.

Your existence no longer has any meaning. You never should have been born in the first place. You're the perfect definition of a waste of human life.

Ivy raised her foot and then brought it down hard on the shard of Soul Edge, over and over, until it was ground into powder, and the rain washed it overboard. Ivy walked to every shard of Soul Edge lying on the deck, and stomped them all to dust. When she was done, absolutely nothing of that blade of Soul Edge remained, save for the evil energy that would haunt this spot in the ocean for decades to come.

Driven far beyond the limits of the human body, Ivy collapsed where she stood.


	24. Visions of the End

For a long time, Siegfried was completely unaware of anything going on around him, in a state that was almost like sleep. Eventually, however, his awareness began to return. He slowly regained the abilities of subjectivity, self-awareness, and sapience. He was a sentient being once more.

His recent memory was the last thing to return, so before he felt an urgent need to know what his current situation was, he observed his surroundings, which he was slowly gaining the ability to comprehend. He could see the ocean. The water was calm, and looked very clear and blue. So did the sky. Bright sunlight streamed down in between fluffy white clouds. The scene was beautiful, but it seemed wrong somehow. Siegfried knew that he wasn't supposed to be in a beautiful scene. He was supposed to be in a storm.

_The storm...Pirate ship...Cervantes...Soul Edge!_

His memories of last night returned like a thunderbolt that had just shot through him, and his sense of urgency returned just as quickly. What had happened last night? He was alive - he had no idea why Cervantes would have allowed him to live. Had he let the others live, as well? Were the others alive?

Siegfried gripped the railing of the ship, pulled himself up to his feet, and then looked around the deck of the ship. The first person he saw was Ivy.

Ivy was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. She appeared to be looking off into the distance, as if she was focusing on something far away, even though there was nothing to be seen on the horizon. The look in her eyes was difficult to read. She seemed somber and depressed. Her body was covered in scars, most of which were crudely bandaged, but she was alive, so Siegfried turned to look for the others.

He saw Tira, seemingly pinned to one of the ship's masts by her own ringblade. She was limp and unmoving, and because her ringblade was at her neck, it seemed as if she had been killed.

"Tira!" Siegfried cried out in alarm and fear.

"Don't worry. Tira is fine. I checked her earlier. Sophitia is fine, too."

Siegfried almost did not recognize the voice. It had come from Ivy. Her voice sounded so different - usually, her speech brimmed over with arrogance and coldness. Now, she sounded humble, and somewhat...sad.

Siegfried wondered if her gloominess had been caused by the loss of the Soul Embrace. "Ivy - what happened last night?"

"The Soul Embrace is fine. It's in the hull of the ship, exactly where we last left it." She said, detecting his unvoiced anxiety and answering it. "Cervantes is gone, and so is the blade of Soul Edge that he wielded."

"...What do you mean by 'gone'?"

"Gone. Gone forever. I killed Cervantes last night."

"Can you be sure? He already came back from the grave once before."

"No, I am certain that this time that will be impossible. I removed all shards of Soul Edge from his body, and in the state it was in the last time I saw it, his body is now more likely to be consumed by the creatures of the sea than reformed by Soul Edge."

Ivy had not given Siegfried the graphic details of her encounter last night, but Siegfried could infer from what she had said so far exactly what she had done to him last night.

"...I see. And what of that blade of Soul Edge? Was it shattered? If so, then it can be reformed, and-"

"It was not shattered. I broke pieces of it off, and one by one, I grinded them into dust. They were scattered by the wind and rain. Perhaps this area will be contaminated by evil for years to come, but I strongly doubt that the blade will ever re-form."

Siegfried gave a long sigh of relief. But there was still something wrong - why did Ivy seem so melancholy? Siegfried would normally not have bothered to ask, but since she was so talkative and calm at the moment, he attempted to find out. "...Ivy, it seems that all is well, and that we have reason for rejoicing. Why do you seem so downhearted?"

There was a short silence before Ivy spoke. When she responded, Siegfried thought her voice to be just a little off - like it had a single string out of tune.

"Siegfried - am I - garbage?"

"...What...?..."

She rose to her feet, and turned around to face Siegfried. He could see a deep distress on her face.

"If a person is born to serve a purpose - but they can't serve that purpose - then are they a failure?"

Siegfried was taken by surprise by her sudden question. He tried to figure out what was behind her question, and what she could be talking about. His hesitation caused her to continue to speak.

"If someone can't serve the purpose they were born to fulfill, then does that make them useless? Worthless? Should they never have been born in the first place?" She was almost trembling now, and it seemed as if she was on the verge of tears. "Are they a waste? Trash? Garbage?"

"Ivy, stop." Siegfried said. He had little clue how to answer her questions, but could see that it would be unhealthy for her to continue speaking. She was obviously talking about herself. But why would she be thinking these things? What purpose was she speaking of? Siegfried knew that Ivy was a potential host for Soul Edge. He guessed that her encounter with Cervantes, a former host of Soul Edge, had reminded her of that fact, and now she was questioning her own existence. Siegfried knew that there was likely much more that he did not know of, but he would try to comfort her as much as he could.

"...No, Ivy." Siegfried began. "I do not think that someone is a failure if they cannot serve the purpose they were born for. No one is a failure based on the circumstances of their conception. If one was born to serve a wicked purpose, and they fulfilled it, they would deserve no praise for that deed. If they had decided against serving the wicked purpose they were born for, I would think far better of them. And if they deny their original wicked purpose to replace it with a new one that will better mankind, then they are truly an admirable person."

For a short while after Siegfried had finished speaking, Ivy remained silent, standing still, but trembling slightly. Slowly, she seemed to have more and more trouble keeping herself composed, until she could no longer hold her tears back. Once the first one fell, she let them flow freely. "...Th-thank you...S-Siegfried..."

Siegfried smiled. "...It's no problem, Ivy."

Ivy's body seemed tense and ready to move, yet she stayed in one spot. Several times, she seemed as if she might move forward, but she stopped. Siegfried wondered if she was contemplating an embrace. He would not have rejected one. He opened his arms ever so slightly as a semi-invitation, and Ivy noticed and interpreted the gesture. She immediately dashed forward, pressed herself against his chest, and threw her arms around him. Siegfried gently returned her embrace, and let her sob against him. It was so very uncharacteristic of her - he could tell that her battle with Cervantes had been a traumatic experience indeed, although he knew there were most likely details he was unaware of.

A short while later, Ivy had recovered. "Thank you, Siegfried..." She said again. "And, I'm sor-" Her sentence came to a sudden halt, as if someone had clasped a hand over her mouth. Siegfried looked down at her.

"Ivy...?"

"...The last time I said it, I was being insincere, so I don't see any reason for you to believe me this time. ...Never mind."

Siegfried inferred what she had been about to say. He believed that she was being sincere this time - but would not pry any further.

The two of them then decided to wake the others, and explain to them that Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge were gone. Once Tira and Sophitia had been brought back to consciousness and informed of the current situation, it seemed that only one issue was left unresolved - the Soul Embrace.

If the power to destroy Soul Edge was a false dream, then the only thing left to do was to seal it away where no one could reach it. There were many hard-to-reach and dangerous places across the world, but as long as Soul Edge was on the face of the Earth, it would still be possible for a very determined soul to reach it. There appeared to be only one solution to their dilemma - the ocean. Currently, there was no known feasible method for retrieving an object that had sunken to the bottom depths of the ocean.

Siegfried stood on the edge of the deck of the ship, where the railing had been broken. In his left hand, he grasped the Soul Embrace, and held it out over the water.

It seemed like such an unfitting and anticlimactic end to a journey that had spanned so many miles, so many months, and so much blood, sweat, and tears. Something he could have done immediately after regaining his will - taking a boat out into the ocean and simply letting the thing fall into the water.

No - it had been much more than that. Because of the choices he had made, Tira was his servant. There was no telling what path Tira would have gone down if it had not been for their meeting. Because of the choices he had made, Ivy had come to terms with her existence. Because of the choices he had made, Kilik had become a master of purification. Because of the choices he had made, Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge had been completely destroyed.

Yes - he had taken the correct paths. He had made the right decisions. It would not have been the same if he had merely thrown Soul Edge into the ocean earlier. He had helped many people. There were no more loose ends. Their journey was ready to come to a close.

He wondered if there were some words he should say before he let the Soul Embrace fall. A eulogy for the end of Soul Edge, and of their journey. He tried to think of one, but appropriate words failed to come to him. He had been hesitating for too long now, and the end of Soul Edge was long overdue - he would let the splash of water as it plunged into the ocean be its eulogy.

He opened his left hand, the hilt of the deformed sword slipped from his grasp, and the Soul Embrace began to fall...

---

Zasalamel looked down at his prize.

The Soul Embrace lay before him, on the floor of the ocean. He was standing in what appeared to be a giant bubble, floating a few feet away from the deformed sword in front of him. Creating a protective sphere such as the one he was standing in was no difficult feat for a mage of his prowess. It took a fair amount of willpower to sustain the sphere against the water pressure at the bottom of the ocean, but it was worth it.

He drifted closer to the Soul Embrace, until it came into contact with his sphere. Instead of popping the 'bubble', the Soul Embrace phased inside of it, and once it had entered the sphere completely, it sat at the bottom.

Zasalamel grinned, and picked up the Soul Embrace, but did not perform the ritual - he did not want to do it here at the bottom of the ocean. He ascended at a high speed, faster than the watercraft of the future would ever move. Once he had emerged from the surface of the ocean, he dispersed the bubble. Now that he was no longer expending his willpower on sustaining the protective sphere, he could allocate his will to another magical feat - instantaneous travel.

In the blink of an eye, Zasalamel was no longer floating above the sea. He was now hovering inches above the stone floor of a cathedral.

The Cathedral resembled many others, yet was like nothing else. A magnificent palace that seemed to contain every form of architecture known to Europe. No one knew who made it, or where it was located. Only those with a strong will and a willingness to bet their own lives could reach it - and thus Zasalamel stood at its center. The great volume of water that flowed through the temple was always circulating and pure, making it the perfect stage for the act that was soon to ensue.

Zasalamel laid the Soul Embrace on the floor of the temple, and stepped back.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated deeply on his next feat. The deed he was about to perform was a secret and forbidden art that had been difficult to obtain and even more difficult to master.

His body began to glow with a purple hue. His clothing swayed from the energy that was emanating from him as if a wind was blowing through the Cathedral. There were a few pebbles lying on the floor of the temple - slowly, they began to tremble, and then gently break into fragments. The fragments slowly began to float upwards into the air, reaching a height of about four or five feet before they broke apart further until they were dust.

Suddenly, Zasalamel's body jerked. He had mastered the art, but it was still extremely painful to connect to the Abyss.

The Abyss. The unbounded space and formless matter that existed before the creation of the universe. It is the opposite of law and order: unrestrictive, both creative and destructive. Primal emptiness, a gaping, wide-open chasm. The Abyss.

Zasalamel's body was now connected to the world of the Abyss. Without hesitation, he moved on to the next step. He created a sphere - but not like the protective bubble he had made earlier. The sphere, about the size of one's head, was jet black in color. The unique property of this sphere was that, being of the Abyss, it absorbed all forms of energy. Zasalamel's slowly began to use the sphere to draw out the essences of the swords and take them into his body. It was an act that only Zasalamel, with the knowledge gained from an eternity of lifetimes, could have performed.

Clusters of light, most pure and fierce, were released from the swords. For a moment, they seemed to struggle as if they had a will of their own, but then proceeded to be absorbed into Zasalamel's body. Power coursed through has entire body, and he began to transform.

His body drastically changed shape to accommodate his new power. His skull expanded in size greatly, until his skin no longer fit over it. Eventually, his skin split and was torn off, but Zasalamel showed no signs of pain. Fang-like protrusions grew from his forehead, curving upwards, giving the appearance of a crown. His right eyeball was forcefully ejected from his head, but the golden orb in his left eye socket stayed. His nose fell away to be replaced by two small rows of teeth, and his chin was turned into a large row of teeth itself. Two horn-like protrusions grew from the sides of his head. From his shoulders, three wing-like flaps grew.

The rest of his skin split apart and fell away as well as his body grew in size. There was little flesh visible at all on his head and shoulders, but his chest and arm muscles were visible. His rib cage was exposed, and sitting inside of it was the Abyss sphere, both evil and pure energy swirling inside and around it. The skin from his torso up hung down around his waist like a crude loincloth. His limbs had many spiked bone-like protrusions, and were very muscular. The scythe he had been holding in his right hand had undergone a similar transformation - it seemed to be composed of a spiked spinal cord, was held together by muscle-like fibers, and the blade of the scythe was pure evil energy, glowing a dark purple.

At the end of an experience completely different from his countless rebirths, he had obtained sharpness of sense, overflowing power, and a voice that thundered like an echoing roar. Zasalamel thought that, having acquired this power, his goal had been achieved. The peace and death that he had sought was right before his eyes. But deep within him, something other than himself was beginning to awaken. He had invited into himself an inhuman power...

...The Abyss itself.

Zasalamel's wish was far from granted. He watched as his left arm moved without his command. His fingers curled, and then clenched into a fist. His head moved, surveying his new, godlike body. He held out a hand. Black and purple wisps of energy swirled around it as he gathered power. Once he'd gathered a ball of energy as big as his fist, he let it loose. It shot off into the distance, out of his sight. Then, there was a brief flash of light, - and at the point it had disappeared on the horizon, a giant swirling black and purple sphere formed, annihilating everything within its enormous radius.

Zasalamel attempted to regain control of his body, but he could not. He belonged to the Abyss now.

The sun faded away as if overcome by evil, and though it was midday, the world became enshrouded in darkness. The energy released by the Abyss caused the powers beneath the earth to awaken. Billowing clouds and steam began to rise from the floor of the Cathedral - it had been built upon the nexus of the world's spiritual energy lines. The Cathedral's pure light took on an evil glow. The pure water swirled violently and grew muddy, releasing the odor of death. This once holy place was transformed into a violent land ruled by terror.

The evil energy that was released slowly began to spread across the face of Earth. Whenever it went, it began to twist the hearts of people. Everywhere the energy spread, the night of the Evil Seed was reenacted. It would take no longer than a day for the evil energy to spread across the entire world.

---

"NO!"

Siegfried's right hand shot out as a bolt of lightning, and grasped the hilt of the Soul Embrace before it dropped out of his reach.

"What?"

"Siegfried, what are you doing?"

"He used his right hand. Siegfried, you're not still under that thing's control, are you?"

Siegfried turned around. Ivy and Sophitia had drawn their weapons.

Siegfried's glance shot back and forth between the three women, all of who were staring at him with worry and anxiety.

"No - no, it isn't that." He said. "I had a – I think I had some kind of vision."

Siegfried began to describe to the women in strong detail the horrific vision he had just seen. Zasalamel using an unimaginable magic feat to reach the bottom of the ocean and retrieve Soul Edge. His teleportation to a cathedral, where he connected himself to another plane of existence and created a sphere that allowed him to absorb the powers of both Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. The hideous transformation that Zasalamel underwent, as well as the transformation that the world then underwent.

Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia listened attentively to Siegfried's story. Tira believed every word he said from the beginning. Ivy lowered her weapon, but kept her guard up, and was hesitant to believe him. Sophitia herself had received inspirational renderings from greater beings several times, and listened to his story with an open mind. By the end of his long speech, all of the women were quite convinced that he had been telling the truth. His account was far too detailed to be a lie or a delusion, and the threat his vision foretold was far too great to be ignored.

"...So, what this means is, dropping the Soul Embrace into the ocean is out of the question because of Zasalamel?" Ivy asked.

"Yes...but it's not only because of him. Our encounter with Cervantes taught us that even out in the middle of the great ocean, there were still those who seek the cursed sword...an object with the power to seduce the hearts of men from beyond the grave cannot merely be dropped into the ocean and abandoned. Unfortunately, we have no choice but to give up on sinking the sword into the ocean."

"I'm sorry." Tira said immediately. Siegfried was puzzled for a moment, until he remembered that dropping Soul Edge into the ocean had been her idea.

"You have no reason to apologize, Tira. You have not wasted our time. Because we traveled here, Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge are destroyed, and we learned valuable lessons about Zasalamel and the Soul Embrace."

They had no more business in the ocean. They had paid attention to the crew's actions before Cervantes' massacre, and had gained the minimum amount of knowledge needed to operate a ship. They turned it around, and sailed it back towards land.

Their journey was not yet over.


	25. A Soldier of Heretics

_Hello again._

_You needn't have been so cryptic in your letter. There was no need to make thinly veiled threats; I remember the debt I owe to you, and still intend to repay it in full. I would have accepted your request regardless of what I owe to you - as an archeologist and historian, I am always more than happy to research and study ancient subjects._

_I'm used to digging up obscure information with only a scarce amount of clues to go by, so the hints you provided were more than enough to help me find the info you wanted. It's been a long time since I've done any translating, and even longer since I'd learned a new language, and this task required me to learn not one, but two new languages. It was all quite a challenge, and I'm rather proud of the information I was able to gather._

_But, enough of that. Let me get to the information you wanted._

_The cultic religion's name translates as "The Call of the Executioner". The religion is extremely secretive, and has kept even their name hidden for many centuries, so this may or may not be their true name, but it is one that they have gone by._

_The cult's origins are ancient - the earliest information I gathered about them came from late BC. If I'm correct, the cult's origins had much to do with the coasts of the Black Sea, so you may find clues there. However, the cult's origins remain difficult to determine, as there are several factions, and the faction you wanted me to look into, the "Guardians of the True Path", was organized around the time when the cult's religion started melding into Greek mythology. These original factions rejected most of the Greek influence, and developed their own ideas of how things such as enlightenment and resurrection are supposed to be reached._

_The cult's entire existence remained underground, and thus it was able to escape the rise of Christianity and the other medieval religions. The religion gradually faded from history, but still grows to this day, and developed many unique ideas that remind me of a lot of Asian religions._

_The cult's central Guardian ("Guardians" are the equivalents of "Gods") is Ares, the Greek God of Destruction and War. They believed in harnessing the god's power to "control life" (I'm pretty sure this refers to resurrection), and sought immortality. During these times, the "Guardians of the True Path" faction extended its affairs well into the Middle East, causing outbreaks of war in those regions. _

_I'll present to you their doctrine. I've done my best to retain all original ideas and translate it correctly, but keep in mind that I could be completely off with some of these things._

_"The twin processes of creation and destruction dominate all workings of the entire world. Every living being to ever walk the face of the Earth was born and has died, or will die. This is an inescapable fact; this is the very essence of existence; this is the Eternal Cycle. However, because of this, the world is stuck in a state of stagnation; an endless, unproductive cycle. However, this stagnation can be cured. If either creation or destruction is resisted, it will mean the loss of balance throughout the whole universe, and the loss of balance would mean the end of all existence - the True Destruction. If all existence were ended, the True Gods would be resurrected, and, under their rule, the universe would be reborn as it should be. We must destroy the world that presently exists to pave the way for a new universe."_

_Many of their writings revolve around the "True Destruction", and bringing it about; it's quite obvious that it's their highest priority. Obviously, they believe that they will be saved at the time of destruction. They also take this "Eternal Cycle" idea very seriously. As I looked through their writings, contradictory statements began to arise. It looks like there are a growing number of believers who interpret their doctrines in different ways, so there's no way to be sure exactly what they believe in or want. The interpretation of their own ancient doctrine appears to be of central debate within their organization._

_The hierarchy of their organization is as follows:_

_At the top of the ladder is the "Grand Priest". His full title is actually "The Great Being Who Sees Everything", but damned if I'm going to write that out every time I mention him. Underneath him are seven "Arc Priests", representing seven heavenly bodies: the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. In case you're wondering, the Grand Priest represents Earth, which, the cult believes, is fixed at the center of the universe. Below them are about twenty or more Priests that serve throughout the entire organization. Some of them serve as Arc Priests; there are some differences in thoughts and factionism among the Arc Priests. And, below the Priests are mere Believers. The number of Believers cannot be confirmed, because the followers of this organization rarely ever gather in one place._

_As I mentioned, there are two general languages throughout the organization. "Literary" language and "Colloquial" language._

_The Literary language is the holy language that the upper priests use to talk to their gods. It is only used during holy ceremonies of the utmost importance. To speak the scared language in any other situation is punishable by death. This applies to merely writing it down on paper, as well. In common ceremonies among the lower priests, the Colloquial language is used. The Colloquial language is a simplification of the Literary language._

_The history of the languages is long and complex, but I'll try to explain it as simply as I can. The Colloquial language was born from the need of a simplified version of the Literary language. The languages are so complex that most priests solely learn the Colloquial language. Therefore, communication between the various priests is almost always in the Colloquial language. Most common believers do not even understand the Colloquial language. They simply believe in the precepts of the religion and live by its creeds._

_There is only one last thing of note that I should mention. In the cult's most recent texts, something that was rarely mentioned in previous writings began to surface more and more. Something referred to as "a new human being". In the Literary language, its name is "Azr ss trzaous as stursa ulous". In the Colloquial language, it is known as "A sta ros", or "Astaroth". Details on it are extremely scarce, but it appears to be a matter of extreme importance, whatever it is._

_That's all I know. It was intriguing to study this cult, and hunting for information on them was quite a challenge. I'd be interested in obtaining further information for you, if you can provide any more clues. Hopefully by providing you with this knowledge, I've made some progress towards working off that 'debt' I owe to you from so long ago._

_Until the next time I hear from you._

_Arthur Leah_

---

It felt the pain of birth. It opened its mouth, and cried out. Hot air burned its throat, and the low chanting of voices above it clung to its ears. It opened its eyes. The chants echoed briefly, and then ceased. It turned its eyes upwards, and saw that a man stood high above it.

"...I have done it. I have achieved Creation from Nothing..."

It understood the man's words. "I have made the first step toward creating a god..." The man murmured these words as if he was in ecstasy.

It felt anger from the very moment it was born, and then found another feeling as it gazed upon this ecstatic man standing high above it - although this feeling was a less straightforward emotion than anger.

And, then, its mind became subject to a hail of memories. The memories belonged to someone else - a warrior who was fighting for something he strongly believed in. The warrior's life was filled with despair, pain, and darkness. Wherever he went, fire and shrieks of death seemed to follow him.

The Grand Priest extended his arm in a broad gesture. "Astaroth, golem whom I have created, I give you a command. I order you to find the weapon known as Soul Edge!"

A giant ax laid nearby the monster that emanated evil energy, drawing the golem to it. It grabbed the ax, and then began to leave the shrine.

The Grand Priest grinned, and muttered words that only he would hear. "The power that even gods desire...With this power, I shall make _myself_ a god!"

---

Hephaestus was not the only god who took notice of Soul Edge's power.

However, unlike Hephaestus, who was wary and spiteful of Soul Edge, the other god was genuinely intrigued with the weapon. To Ares, the God of War, the evil blade's cursed origins and nature were of little concern. He simply wished to possess such a magnificent and powerful weapon for himself.

Ultimately, the two gods' conflicting desires would cause much strife in the realm of the mortals.

Ares looked to a heretical order to help him obtain Soul Edge. A desert-dwelling cult that worshipped him. Ares bestowed an oracle to a Grand Priest of this cult, and ordered him to seek the sword. The Grand Priest, Kunpaetku, used the cult's black arts to create a golem. In accordance with ancient texts, the Grand Priest named the golem Astaroth, bestowed it with a giant ax infused with a powerful curse, and sent it on a mission to search for the evil blade.

Kunpaetku secretly desired Soul Edge for himself, for the idea of a sword that even the gods sought after stirred greed within him. But seeking to deceive a god is an extremely foolish task. The soul of a servant of Ares' dwelled within Astaroth. This servant's name was Ker, and he was known as the Agent of Death.

Contrary to its creator's intentions, Astaroth sought after Soul Edge not for Kunpaetku, but for the God of War. When Astaroth eventually found it, the sword was in a weakened state, having lost half of itself in battle. Knowing that his god would not be pleased with the blade in this condition, the golem sought a way to rectify the situation - and found that in Nightmare, whom also wielded a blade of Soul Edge at the time. Astaroth went into the service of Nightmare, and joined him in slaughtering countless victims in order to strengthen the unholy weapon. Astaroth became the subject of bitter hatred for his innumerable massacres.

Three years later, the blade had recovered its power, and the time was nearing for Astaroth to take Soul Edge from Nightmare's grasp. But, Astaroth never obtained the opportunity. Of all the souls harboring hatred for Astaroth, one soul with an irrepressible desire for vengeance reached Nightmare's stronghold in Ostrheinsburg, and destroyed the golem. This man sought to avenge his comrades who were slain by Astaroth.

Although Astaroth was a wicked being, he was the servant of a god. Immediately after his servant was destroyed, the infuriated God of War unleashed his punishment. The ground buckled beneath the man - who was already seriously wounded from the battle - and he disappeared into the earth. So sudden were these events that the man had nary a moment to rejoice in his victory.

Soon after the battle against Astaroth, the revenge seeker's friends defeated Nightmare and shattered Soul Edge. They searched for the slayer of Astaroth for some time, but they eventually lost hope of finding him, and left. For a while thereafter, peace returned to the world.

Four years passed since that time...and Astaroth had been resurrected.

Had Astaroth simply been a creation of a mere mortal, his resurrection would have been an impossible feat. However, Ares' powers and the evil energy surrounding Ostrheinsburg made it feasible. The Ostrheinsburg grounds, sated with the blood of those slain by Nightmare and cursed by their deep-seated hatred of him, acted as the perfect medium for Astaroth's resurrection.

When he was destroyed, Astaroth lost much of the weaknesses he had obtained as a result of being created with the aid of human hands. Moreover, during his regeneration, his new body absorbed several Soul Edge fragments that were nearby. This made the new Astaroth far more powerful and merciless.

After recovering fully, Astaroth set out to bring back Soul Edge for Ares. However, a problem arose. The Grand Priest Kunpaetku, the leader of the evil cult and Astaroth's direct creator, had realized that his golem was not behaving as he had originally instructed it. In order to reclaim Astaroth as his servant, the Grand Priest performed a ritual in the deepest part of the cult's temple and unleashed a powerful curse upon Astaroth.

Astaroth, however, fought back against the curse, for he had become an ideal host for the soul that dwelt inside him, because of the fragments of Soul Edge he had taken in during his resurrection.

His policy had long been to destroy all who stood in his way. To Astaroth, the evil cult was now an obstacle in his path. Astaroth returned to the place of his birth, seeking to destroy his creator. Once entering the temple, he became a whirlwind of destruction. The giant roared and mowed down everything in his path. The curse that tried to stop him only fueled his anger. He destroyed everything he saw. Filled with cries and shouts, and enveloped in a thunderous roar, the temple of the heretics was transformed into a crucible of chaos. On this day, the faction that had called themselves the "Guardians of the True Path" was wiped from history by the hand of a being they themselves had created.

Astaroth pursued Kunpaetku into the deepest part of the temple, but the Grand Priest managed to escape at the last moment. Only the hoarse words the priest left behind remained;

"You may be powerful, but in the end, you're nothing more than a golem modeled after a human!"

At those words, Astaroth stopped in his tracks. The very idea was ridiculous! He had been created in the image of a pathetic human? He was not a unique being - he was a mere replica. A copy of something else. Unoriginal. He began to seethe with fury at the thought - it completely consumed him and his thoughts.

Perhaps because he had destroyed the facility where the ritual had been performed, Astaroth's curse faded, and he recovered his true strength. The giant figure stood within the temple, thinking quietly to himself on this new development. So deep in concentration was he that he did not even notice the man approaching him from behind.

"Greetings, A sta ros."

Astaroth was startled by the sudden voice from behind. He tried to reach for his ax and turn his head to look over his shoulder - but he could do neither. His body was frozen. "What...a paralysis spell...!" He hypothesized through a mouth he was barely able to move.

"Do not fear. I am an ally. We have the same intentions." The man standing behind him said in a cool, calm voice.

"I have no allies, and I share intentions with no one!" Astaroth barked.

"...Do you not? But, four years ago, did you not have three allies, and share their intentions - even if that was a ruse?"

Astaroth growled. "Enough! Who are you, and what the hell do you want!"

"My identity is irrelevant. What I desire is a death - the same death that you desire." The man said coldly.

"...What the hell are you talking about? What 'death'?"

"The death of the man whom you were modeled after."

Astaroth relaxed his body, and stopped trying to fight the man's paralysis spell. "...You know who this man is?"

"Yes. His name is Siegfried Schtauffen...The man who was known as the Azure Knight."

Astaroth tensed up again.

"You mean...! Nightmare, and the man I was modeled after...are one and the same?"

"Yes. This is why the two of you were drawn to one another. Not only that, but, the entire time, Nightmare was aware of your relation to him, and looked on you with pity. He thought you a pathetic creature."

Astaroth's face twisted in anger. "That bastard! ...But, wait. How do you know all of this? ...How do I know if you're even telling the truth?"

"I have spent many years gathering knowledge of organizations and individuals that could benefit me one day. As for whether or not I am telling the truth, you'll just have to...trust me."

At this point, Astaroth was unaware of the man casting yet another spell upon him - a beguiling spell. The man's primary strength was manipulating others, whether with cleverly crafted words, or with spells. The man had lied. The warrior Astaroth was modeled after was not Siegfried. However, the man saw an advantage in telling Astaroth otherwise. He could sense Astaroth's desire to destroy the one he was modeled after, and by feeding him this lie, Astaroth would seek to kill Siegfried. Astaroth's mind was particularly weak and single-minded - a simple deception spell would be enough to convince him not to doubt the man's words.

"...I understand." Astaroth muttered, hate lacing the syllables of his words. All he could think of now was killing Siegfried.

"I am glad you do." The man responded. "I will see to it that Siegfried finds his way to this temple. Be warned that he will be accompanied by other warriors. Until they arrive, you are to remain here in wait as-"

"No one tells me what to do!" Astaroth snapped suddenly.

The irony of the golem's statement caused the man to smirk. "Of course not - I am merely advising you to remain here as the fly wanders into the spider's web." He said smoothly. "I will go now, to draw Siegfried here. Farewell, A sta ros."

The man vanished, and Astaroth regained control over his body - but his mind stayed under the spell. Again, he stood and thought quietly to himself. If the being that he was modeled after was as powerful as himself, then that man should also be excellent nourishment for Soul Edge. The one he was modeled after must be the greatest soul on earth. He would offer that soul to the cursed sword in order to facilitate its resurrection. And, then, he would become complete - a unique being with no model.

His next objective was set.

He would destroy Siegfried.


	26. Return of the Brother

**The original concept of the Lucius scene was composed by Biohazard 101, and was used with his permission in this chapter.** **Thank you, Biohazard 101.**

* * *

"Sophitia."

After so many months of travel and hardships together, Siegfried and the others who accompanied him had become something of a close-knit group. Siegfried's stoicism had been a result of solitude and a lack of companionship for several years. Now, he experienced the company and amity of others daily, which had done much to soften his stoicism.

Ever since the events concerning Cervantes, Ivy's cold nature had thawed, as if an experience unseen by the others had granted her a revelation. Where she was once insulting and rude, she was now almost what could have been called friendly.

By contrast, Tira had been eager to do nothing but please and satisfy from the outset, and had changed little. One noticeable change was that the 'babyish' and 'cutesy' aspects of her speech patterns had eased a bit.

The irony in this situation was that the final member of Siegfried's party, a woman who had always been a loving and caring person, was now the most distant and solemn of the group.

"...Sophitia?"

Only the words 'depressed' and 'melancholy' could have described Sophitia's present nature. Most of the time, she seemed absentminded, her thoughts elsewhere. Often a speaker would have to repeat what they'd said for her sake, and often she was slow to respond or react.

Her mind was indeed elsewhere - at home.

Despite seeking comfort and warmth in Siegfried's arms, and temporarily convincing herself that she loved him, Sophitia had never recovered from Rothion's betrayal. What could he be doing, at right this very moment? Cheating on her again? Perhaps he'd run away, far away, out of shame, or simply to get away from a life he'd grown to hate.

Or, maybe, the optimist within her timidly suggested, he was at home, repenting for his betrayal by putting all his heart and soul into raising their children, and staying as loyal as possible.

_Unlikely_, responded the pessimist within her.

Sophitia began to yearn for that memorable comfort again. To be held in the warm embrace of strong arms, to let go of every trouble that plagued her, to simply bask in primal pleasure for just a short time...

...In short, she yearned once more for Siegfried.

"...Sophitia!"

"...Eh? Oh, I'm sorry..."

"Siegfried says that we've rested long enough, and that its time to get moving again." Ivy said.

Sophitia nodded. "Right. Okay."

While traveling through Persia, the group had heard rumors that a cult that had worshipped an evil god somewhere in the Persian deserts had been wiped out. Rumors of the secret arts of a powerful god triggered their interest. Even if such power was evil, if it was a power that exceeded human knowledge, then perhaps it would open the way to destroying the cursed sword. This rumor would have to be investigated.

They had almost reached their destination - the temple was within view now. A few more hours of travel, and they would reach it.

_There's no chance of doing anything with Siegfried from now until we've finished investigating the temple. ...But waiting that long would be unbearable...maybe...somewhere in the temple...we can find a private spot, and Siegfried and I could..._

---

Siegfried and the rest reached the temple, and entered. It was completely uninhabited, save for dozens of corpses. By their looks, they had been dead for days. They all bore similar scars, as if the same weapon had been used to murder all of them - which pointed to the conclusion that a single person was responsible for the carnage. Memories returned to Siegfried of single-handedly annihilating the population of small villages and hamlets. He knew that something similar to his Nightmare form could be waiting within the temple.

The temple was vast in size, and complex in layout. It was almost like a maze, and after only a short while, some members of the group began to fear that it would be difficult to find their way out again. Knowing that a powerful and evil being might be lurking anywhere in the temple, the experience of traversing the temple was incredibly unsettling.

"...I think we should split up."

These sudden words had come from Sophitia.

"...Split up? Why?" Siegfried asked.

"We could be going in the wrong direction. There are so many different paths here. We'd cover twice as much ground if we moved in two groups instead of one."

"...I don't think the benefits outweigh the drawbacks." Ivy said. "If we split up, we might not be able to find one another again, and two of us would be easier to kill than four. It's better to move as one group."

"If one group moves along the right wall, and the other group moves along the left, then we'll eventually meet up again no matter what. And I doubt there is a high chance we'll run into someone or something that is powerful enough to take on two of us at once." Sophitia responded.

Sophitia and Ivy's reasoning seemed evenly matched. They turned towards their leader for the final decision.

"...I see logic in what Sophitia is suggesting." Siegfried said. "We're only wandering aimlessly, hoping to get lucky and find something, and the chances of that will be doubled if we travel separately. We'll be safe enough in groups of two, and it might be difficult to locate one another again, but it won't be impossible."

"I'll go with Siegfried." The words had left Sophitia's mouth almost before Siegfried had stopped speaking.

She received odd looks from her companions. Her sudden assertiveness in suggesting a plan and then picking a partner seemed uncharacteristic, given her disposition lately.

"...I just - wanted to start doing my part and pulling my weight, that's all." Sophitia lied, providing an answer to the unasked questions that were passing through the others' minds.

Siegfried, unaware that Sophitia was secretly harboring quite different motives, was quick to accept her proposal. He knew well the feeling of wanting to prove one's worth.

"That's fine. Sophitia and I will follow the right wall, and Ivy and Tira will follow the left."

Tira and Ivy had long grown tired of carrying on the childish rivalry they'd once nourished, and did not argue. The two groups split up as they had been designated.

And when Tira and Ivy were out of sight, Sophitia began to discretely loosen her clothing to make it easier to remove in a hurry.

---

An annoyed sigh passed through Siegfried's lips. He and Sophitia had followed a long hallway, only to reach a dead end.

_...Now._

As Siegfried began to turn around, Sophitia reached out and tugged on his hand.

"Siegfried."

"...Hmm?" He asked, turning to face her. As he did so, his eyes couldn't help but wander downwards towards her breasts. Her garbs appeared to be exposing more skin than they usually did - the cups of her metallic brassiere and the fabric of the white toga she wore seemed to be mere millimeters from exposing her nipples. And her clothing seemed loose enough to fall off at the slightest shrug of her shoulders.

Siegfried quickly adjusted his eyes to meet Sophitia's, but her head and eyes were directed to the side, which consequently allowed Siegfried to look without being noticed. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and then moved them up slightly, accentuating her breasts even further. The metallic cups moved slightly away from her breasts, and Siegfried realized that if he leaned forward just a few inches, he would be able to look down past the cups and see her nipples. With Sophitia's head turned as it was, she might as well have been making him an offering.

_...What a letch I am!_ Siegfried thought to himself. _I shouldn't be thinking of these kinds of things. She is not an object for my-_

"...Siegfried..."

Sophitia reached up to the buckles that held the metallic cups up, and unfastened them, which led to the full exposure of her breasts. Then she took Siegfried's right hand, worked off the glove that covered it, and pressed his hand up against her right breast.

A mixture of shock and arousal temporarily kept Siegfried from saying anything, but once he remembered how to form words, he tried to voice his puzzlement.

"...Why...are you..."

"...Siegfried...I want to feel you touching me. I want to feel you holding me. I want to lose myself in your embrace. Please, Siegfried...hold me...touch me."

She quickly moved forward, pressing herself against Siegfried's body, and in moments his left hand's glove was off and both hands were exploring her body. It had happened so quickly it was almost an involuntary, reflexive action - Siegfried didn't have time to tell himself, "No, stop, don't" before his body had already surrendered to its desires. And, even after he'd realized what his hands were doing, he couldn't make them stop. His body's wishes had already superseded his ability to reason, and Sophitia's skin was so, so soft...

Sophitia placed a tiny soft kiss on Siegfried's lips, and he returned it enthusiastically. It wasn't long at all before the two of them were beginning to remove one another's armor and clothing...

---

_Footprints...and recent. Someone else entered this place not too long ago._

Cassandra was kneeling down and inspecting footprints in the sand outside of the temple. _Two...three...four people._ Four people had entered this temple recently. There were no tracks leading out, so they were probably still in there.

_I guess I'm not the only one following this rumor. Damn! I wanted to be the first one. I wanted to be the only one...If someone beat me here, then the entire trip was a waste. ...Maybe they haven't found the evil power yet. Maybe I can still be the first. ...I've gotta hurry!_

Cassandra stood up, and then darted into the temple.

_Oh, great, it's like a maze in here. ...I'll stick to the right wall. That way I can't get lost, and I'll explore the entire thing._

Cassandra ran at top speed through the temple, leaping over corpses and always sticking to the right. For most of the trip, the temple was deadly silent, but suddenly, Cassandra began to hear sounds.

She stopped in her tracks, leaned up against a wall, and listened carefully.

_Sounds like...slapping. Skin on skin. I can also hear something that sounds like labored breathing, and moaning. And I smell a strange odor coming in the same direction...This is really creepy...What could it be?_ Cassandra imagined a foul monster with loose flaps of skin slapping against one another as it skittered along the dank halls, breathing heavily and groaning. She readied her sword, and prepared for a fight.

She crept along the hallway, slowly and carefully - it was very dark, and hard to see a thing. There were a few torches lining the walls, probably enchanted to be lit for a long time, but the light they provided was inadequate. Eventually, she spotted something down the hall, mostly obscured by shadows.

It _was_ a monster! A beast with four legs and four arms. It possessed two loose flaps of skin that were bouncing as it performed odd, bucking motions. Its body was mostly hairless, and glistening with sweat and who knew what other ungodly bodily fluids. Unless her eyes deceived her, the beast possessed two heads, both of which were emitting the groaning sounds. She knew not why the monster was heaving and moaning as it was. Perhaps it was dying? Injured by the four travelers in an epic battle? Both of the monster's heads suddenly emitted moans much louder than before, and the pace of its heaving quickened momentarily, and then slowed. It was in the throes of death! Now was her chance to strike!

Cassandra raised her sword high, and charged forward.

"YAAAAAH!"

"...Huh?"

The beast tilted one of its heads forward, and Cassandra clearly saw its face.

"...S-So-Sophitia!"

Cassandra came to a grinding halt, and now that she was only a few feet away from her foe, saw it much more clearly.

It was not a monster, but two naked humans. One was Sophitia, the other was the man she'd left with. What was his name? Sienfried? Siegfeld?

For a few seconds, the three could do nothing but stare at one another. After the initial shock of the sight had worn off, a realization came to Cassandra.

"You're cheating on your husband!"

Sophitia flushed even redder than she already was. "No! No, I'm not! This doesn't count!"

"What do you mean, it doesn't count?" Cassandra demanded.

"I - I can't really hold a conversation right now!"

"Fine, I'll just go wait down the hall while you finish fucking Seinfeld!"

Cassandra turned and stormed off, and Sophitia practically sprung off of a dazed Siegfried to gather her clothes and put them on.

Once fully dressed, Sophitia bounded down the hallway, and caught sight of Cassandra.

"Cassandra!"

Cassandra didn't stop.

"Cassandra, please wait! Come back!"

"I'm disgusted in you!" Cassandra shouted over her shoulder without stopping.

"Just give me a minute to explain!"

Sophitia caught up to Cassandra, and followed a few feet behind her.

"Listen to me - the night before I left, I found Rothion in bed with another woman."

This was enough to make Cassandra stop. "...What?"

There was an awkward silence between the two sisters.

"...So, then, having sex with that man back there was your way of getting revenge?"

"...I...don't really want revenge...I, I worry so much about what's going on back home, and sometimes I just need to forget for a..." Sophitia's voice trailed off as something else took priority. "...Wait. What is going on back home? Why are you here, anyway? What about the children? Did Rothion stay, or did he run off?"

"...Um...The night before you left, Rothion returned home late at night…"

---

Rothion ran down the street, one hand holding the gash that has been carved across into his face.

He slipped into an alleyway as he attempted to hold back the flow of crimson pouring from the wound. He looked over his shoulder to see his pursuer still close behind and approaching quickly. Rothion made a half-hearted swing with his own blade, but once again he saw a flash of blue and white as his blade was deflected, and then a fist as it smashed into his face. He toppled to the ground, and started to rise, but froze when the tip of a longsword pressed lightly against his throat. His eyes moved up and down the sword, the blacksmith within him admiring the weapon even as it threatened his life - it was not the kind of sword used by the kind of person he would expect to do this. He looked up to see a blond haired boy of his upper teens, anger seething upon his face.

"...I actually enjoyed the ceremony, you know. You have a lot of nerve spitting on my blessing." Suddenly, the blade was drawn back, and then sent into Rothion's collar bone. "But ripping apart my sister's heart as you did is not something I am willing to tolerate." Rothion groaned as the young man twisted the blade and then drew it out.

"You'd be surprised just how quickly your bitch spread your words around Athens. About how Sophitia was the worst thing since sin, about how her family is ashamed of her, about how her BROTHER is ashamed of her!" He said, giving Rothion a kick in the back of his legs as he tried to stand. "Don't move, else I'll make sure you never consummate another union."

"This has nothing to do with you, Lucius...!" Rothion muttered. This statement earned him a boot to the side of his face.

"Oh, but I do believe it does. You think that just because I live far away and rarely visit gives you the right to speak for me? My parents might be ashamed, but then again, they are the ones that let her marry a dog like you. It would seem, however, that the dog has already been replaced. I hope you no longer hold a place in her heart, either."

Rothion glared hard at his brother-in-law. "What? Sophitia has someone else? Who?"

"Vain jealousy does not suit you, Rothion, because you were never worthy of Sophitia. I'm not so sure that it will necessarily be something along the lines of love, but there is no shame in comfort, I suppose."

Rothion growled as he tried to raise himself from the ground, already fixing his eyes towards the inn that his wife was staying at, but then groaned with pain as Lucius' blade stabbed his foot, bringing him down to the ground again. "So, now you believe that she has no right to stab you in the back after what you did to her? How utterly pathetic."

"Aren't you supposed to be jealous and feel left out all the time, like Cassandra?" Rothion taunted, but this only earned him punishment in the form of a kick to the ribs.

"If it were not for the fact that my sister bore you two children, I would kill you where you lay right now. I do not wish for my nephew and niece to grow up without a father, or to see your rotting corpse at a funeral. I doubt that Cassandra could raise them all by herself, so I'll let you live to raise your children. You've proven that you are of questionable morals, and knowing Cassandra, she'll probably be unable to live a life staying at home, so I will be 'visiting' for the next few weeks to keep an eye on you. ...But if you step even into the shadow of another whore, I'll make you suffer far worse than you have here tonight."

Lucius grabbed Rothion by the hair and lifted him up, swung him back into the street, and pointed down the road to his house.

"You were mugged. When the muggers found out you didn't have any money on you, they roughed you up. That's why you were so late coming home tonight, and why you look like you were just dragged through hell. Tomorrow will be the first time we've seen each other for years, and after learning what happened to you, I'll decide to extend my visit to help raise the children while you recover. Don't speak a single word otherwise to anyone."

Rothion's ego had been flattened to a pulp, and he did not even have the strength to direct one last glare or sneer at the boy. He nodded his head in defeat and acknowledgment of the alibi Lucius had provided him with, and then began limping home. Lucius sheathed his blade, and then went to go find an inn to stay at until morning - preferably not the one his sister was currently making love in.

---

"The night before you left, Rothion returned home late at night covered in scars and bruises. He'd been mugged by a bunch of kids, probably the same gang you scared away from the temple one night. He was in no shape to work his smithy or raise the kids. I was getting really worried - but then Lucius showed up!"

"Lucius! Why was he there?"

"He said he'd just come to visit and see how things had been going. But when he saw what horrible shape Rothion was in, he insisted on staying for at least a few weeks to help him recover. I'd never seen him so concerned about anyone - he treated all of Rothion's wounds and followed him everywhere. He must really like him. It was strange, though, because Rothion didn't seem to appreciate his help or want to speak a word to him."

Sophitia thought that there was something strange about Cassandra's story. Something about Lucius coincidentally showing up a few hours after Rothion had allegedly been mugged seemed suspicious - but she couldn't jump to any conclusions.

"And, as for why I'm here, well...I just couldn't stand staying at home baking bread while I knew my sister was probably having an epic adventure. I want to live this kind of life - I want to follow rumors and explore temples, too! And, since both Lucius and Rothion were at home to watch over the kids..."

"...I see." Sophitia said. She knew her sister's nature well, and as long as her children had at least two guardians, she felt that they were safe.

"...Ew, what is that?"

Sophitia was surprised by Cassandra's sudden deviation from their conversation. She seemed to be sniffing the air. "Something smells nasty."

Sophitia sniffed, and smelled it, too. A foul odor, like nothing she'd ever smelt before.

Noticed only by Cassandra, a few pebbles fell to ground behind Sophitia. Cassandra looked upwards towards the ceiling for their source, and found it.

"...SIS, MOVE!"

"Wha-"

Knowing her sister might not react fast enough, Cassandra lunged forward to shove her out of the way. The two sisters went tumbling to the ground a mere second before a three hundred pound golem came crashing down to the ground, the force of his impact causing cracks in the stone floor he'd landed on.

"You survived...but let's see if you can do it again!" The golem growled. He had grown quite tired of lying in wait in this temple, and these two maidens would quench his desire to kill for the time being.

"By the gods, what is it?"

"I think this thing is what destroyed the cult."

"That's right...and you're next!" The monster snarled.


	27. Born From the Void

The golem stood at an intimidating height, nearly 7 feet tall. His skin was a sickly color between red and purple. On his forehead there was some sort of marking shaped like a flame. The marking seemed to be carved out of his skin, exposing something ghastly underneath - it was not normal flesh, but something that resembled lava. It pulsed orange and yellow, and it seemed as if fire and magma might pour out at any moment. The golem's eyes had the same effect, and on his chest, there was a much larger, but similar marking exposing the lava-like substance beneath his skin.

The golem wore a black mask that covered the lower half of his head. It was lined with spikes, and if it had a purpose besides protection, it was to increase his intimidating appearance. The mask did not cover his mouth, but the golem wore a smaller leather mask over the lower half of his face. The part of the leather mask that went over his mouth was lined with stitches, and his gritted teeth could be seen underneath. He also wore a mantle, gloves, belt, and boots that were similar in design to his black, spiked mask. Besides that, the golem was clad in nothing but his reddish-purple skin, lava markings, and rippling muscles.

Last, he wielded a giant axe, as tall as he was. The edge of the axe was split - it was unknown whether part of it was chipped off in battle, or if the split was simply part of the axe's design, but it made the weapon no less fearsome.

The three of them were in a long corridor, lined with pillars that reached the ceiling. Beyond the pillars were trenches of water. Light from nearby torches reflected off of the shimmering surface of the water, casting the reflection on the pillars and walls. It was a beautiful sight, but now was not the time to admire it.

The two sisters barely had enough time to take in the golem's appearance and their surroundings before he attacked.

Astaroth's first move was to swing his axe at Sophitia. His swing was powerful, but slow - Sophitia leapt back. Astaroth used the momentum of his swing to turn it aside and swing it in a different direction, at Cassandra - and luckily, she, too, was able to evade it.

Already enraged, Astaroth swung his axe at the ground in fury. The blow upturned the stone floor, and the impact was like an earthquake. Sophitia and Cassandra struggled to maintain their balance - and Astaroth saw a new strategy.

He swung at the sisters to make them dodge, and then he swung his axe into the ground once more. With them off-balance, he now had an opportunity to -

I only see one. Where did the other- 

Astaroth heard footsteps behind him. He immediately whirled around and swung his axe into the girl who had run around him. Only the flat side of the axe's blade hit her, but it sent her flying through the air and into a pillar, the force of her impact causing it to crack.

"Cassandra!" Sophitia screamed.

Finding the woman's shriek irritating to his ears, Astaroth turned his axe on her. He rotated his wrist, causing the axe to twirl, and tried to slice it into her. She was again too fast for him, but he was gaining ground on her quickly. In just a few more seconds, his axe would tear into her body and -

Astaroth felt a sharp pain in his thigh.

Roaring in pain and anger, he twisted his head to the side to see the short-haired woman digging her blade into his leg.

He swung his axe level with her neck, aiming to sever her head from her body. At the last moment, she did a back flip, dodging the swing.

Eh? A backflip? What nonsense...Acrobatics have no purpose in a battle! 

Astaroth let his axe's momentum carry him in a circle, and pirouetted towards the girl, swinging his axe as he did. Again she dodged by back flipping away - and Astaroth continued to spin, swinging his axe as he did, trying to slice it into the girl. Then, in the middle of a flip, the girl stumbled and landed on her back.

Ha! Foolish girl. 

Astaroth raised his axe in the air, and swung it down at the girl. He missed. The girl had not moved - Astaroth's swing had gone astray. He would normally have never missed such an easy target, but the searing pain in his back had distracted him.

With yet another mighty roar, he reached around and tried to claw at the woman who had leapt onto him from behind and jabbed her sword into his back. She leapt off, and Astaroth turned to face her. More enraged by the moment, he beat his chest with his free hand chest to work off his fury, and then swung his axe at the woman. His anger increased the speed of his swing, and it connected with the woman, knocking her into the air. She bounced off of a pillar and hit another before she reached the ground.

"SIS!"

Now familiar with his enemy's attack pattern, he swung his axe around his back at the short-haired woman he knew was about to attack him from behind. However, his swing was way off, as the woman had already managed to scamper to a safe distance. Despite this, Astaroth didn't stop moving for a second, and charged at the short-haired woman, his axe in continuous motion as he swung it at her over and over. The woman managed to keep out of range of his blows, but the axe connected with pillars, chipping them, slicing them in half, or simply shattering them to pieces.

Anger was clouding Astaroth's mind, but he could see that his attack was getting nowhere. He would gather all his energy, and use it to destroy the woman in one blow.

"...How's...THIS?" He roared, his muscles bulging as he used every ounce of strength to aim a killing blow at the woman. She dodged it by a hair's breadth, but when the axe came in contact with the ground, it sent her flying. The incredible force of its impact caused three pillars to topple over, and the woman scrambled to her feet to avoid being crushed as they fell.

Once safe, the woman faced the golem, caught her breath for a moment, and then spoke. "...Not bad at all...but it's...my turn now!"

Tired of being on the defensive, Cassandra decided to fight aggressively. She lunged forward and delivered two quick slices to the golem's legs. He roared in pain and swung his axe, but Cassandra ducked to avoid it, and then thrust her sword forward into his stomach. When she drew it out, she noticed the lava-like substance oozing from the wound, and drops of lava on her blade. Was this the golem's 'blood'?

Knowing she couldn't leisurely stand around next to the golem, she rolled to the side, just in time to avoid a blow that had been aimed at her head. She held out her sword as she did, drawing it across the golem's skin. Now on his blind side, she attacked again. When Astaroth turned to swing at her, she knew she had to move, but knew that her feet wouldn't carry her fast enough. She planted a foot on the golem's knee and kicked off, tumbling backwards and avoiding what would have been a fatal swing of Astaroth's axe.

The battle continued in this manner. Cassandra managed to dash forward in time to deliver one or two quick blows, and then quickly drew back to avoid being hit. However, Astaroth's power and speed grew with his anger, and Cassandra knew that she wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. And her sister - was she hurt? Dead? A quick glance to the pillars she had been thrown into revealed a stirring Sophitia.

"Sis!"

Sophitia rose to her feet. "Keep him distracted - I have an idea!"

Cassandra ran behind a pillar, onto the thin strip of ground between the pillars and the trench of water. As she did, the golem matched her strides and swung at her. Pillars shattered and crumbled, but Cassandra avoided being struck. Astaroth's head snapped to the side when he sensed someone behind him, and he turned around and swung his axe at Sophitia. Sophitia attempted to run past him, and Astaroth swung his axe up from the ground to attack her, but missed. The axe instead struck the ceiling - and became lodged there. Astaroth struggled to dislodge his axe, as Sophitia ran over to Cassandra.

"I have a plan, but I need your help. The markings on his head and chest - they might be the key. I'll attack the head, and at the same time, I want you to drive your sword into the marking on the chest. Got it?"

"Got it!"

The two sisters nodded at one another, and then raised their swords in preparation. Astaroth pulled his axe from the ceiling, and faced the two sisters. They began charging at him at the same time.

Bold little insects. I'll swat them both with one blow! 

Astaroth waited until they were within his range, and then swung his axe down. Both sisters jumped away in opposite directions, and then leapt at him. Sophitia drove her sword into the pulsing lava on Astaroth's forehead, and Cassandra sent her sword into the marking on his chest where his heart would have been.

Sophitia's speculation was correct - they had both struck fatal points on Astaroth's body. The golem dropped his axe and began to claw at the women, but he could no longer make his hands grip. The two sisters twisted their swords, digging deeper into the golem's enchanted innards. Astaroth let out one final roar of rage, fury, and pain, and then fell silent. The sisters leapt off of his body. He fell to his knees, collapsed, and lay still. The lava in its body eventually turned black and stopped pulsing. Astaroth was dead.

Sophitia and Cassandra stood over the giant corpse of their dead foe, panting from exhaustion. They began to hear the sound of running footsteps coming from two directions. They were alarmed at first, until they identified the newcomers. Siegfried from one direction, Tira and Ivy from the other.

Ivy looked down at Astaroth's corpse. "What the hell is that thing? What happened here?"

"...It looks...familiar..." Siegfried remarked. He walked closer to Astaroth's corpse, and looked down at its face. "...What? Can this be?"

"You recognize that thing?" Sophitia asked.

"Yes." Siegfried confirmed. "Ivy, look - it's Astaroth."

"...What?" Ivy inspected the golem's face as well, and recognized it. "It is - it's him."

"...Uh...did we kill a friend of yours?" Cassandra asked sheepishly.

Siegfried shook his head. "He was an accomplice from long ago, but he was by no means a 'friend'."

"Why was he here?" Ivy asked.

"This temple – the energy here – it reminded me of him. I think this is his 'birthplace'. Where he was created." Siegfried said.

Ivy looked up. "Siegfried! Do you suppose–"

"Yes. I think that Astaroth is what destroyed the cult." Siegfried confirmed. "Look at the size and shape of his weapon - it matches the wounds we found on the dead cultists. For some reason, Astaroth returned here to slay his own creators. We'll never know why, but I don't think the reason was relevant to us."

"...Some 'secret evil power of a dark cult' this turned out to be." Ivy sighed. "...This..._reunion_...was interesting, but this is only another dead end." Ivy turned her attention to something both she and Siegfried had been ignoring. "...And what about her? Why's she here?" She asked, indicating Cassandra.

"...Who wants to stay home while her sister is off having adventures?" Cassandra asked.

"...Adventures?" Sophitia asked.

"Yeah!" Cassandra exclaimed enthusiastically. "Epic journeys! Following rumors, exploring temples, and doing battle with giant golems! That sort of thing!" She pointed her sword at Astaroth's corpse. "I never would have gotten the chance to do this sort of thing if I'd just stayed at home!"

"...Sis..." Sophitia said. There was irritation in her tone.

"...What's wrong?"

"You do know that we're not just doing this for fun, right? You do know that we're trying to stop Soul Edge, and that we're risking our lives every day, don't you? Do you understand what might have happened in this temple if you had fought this thing alone? You could have been killed! Patroklos and Pyrrha wouldn't have an aunt anymore! I wouldn't have a sister anymore!"

"I don't see what the big deal is! We killed it, and I'm safe! And now I can adventure with you guys, so -"

"No! Go home!"

"...What?"

Sophitia's eyes were as fiery as the golem's had been. "Cassandra, leave here now, and go home right away."

"Why?" Cassandra demanded. "Is this about the kids? They're fine, both Rothion and Lucius are-"

"This isn't about them! This about you! Think about how sad our family would be if you died! I can't allow you to risk yourself out here!"

"Hey, don't you have much more to risk than I do? I only have a nephew, a niece, and a brother-in-law, but you have a son, a daughter, and a husband! If you die, how would THEY feel?"

"Are you trying to say that it matters less if you die?"

"What? No! I'm saying that you're being a hypocrite!"

"Look, Cassandra, I'm fighting to stop Soul Edge because it's a mission given to me by my god. I don't do this because I want to. I wouldn't do this if it weren't my god-given obligation! But you just want to be out here to have fun! Our 'adventure' isn't about having fun! We nearly get killed every day!"

"...Getting killed is better than living a life without meaning!"

The anger on Sophitia's face subsided. "...A life without meaning?"

"...You have everything." Cassandra said, her voice wavering. "You have a husband and two kids, you've saved the world, and you get to live a life that actually has action! You have a mission - your life has a purpose! I don't have any of that. I don't have any of the things you have." Cassandra's voice wavered more and more as she spoke, and her lower lip was trembling.

"...Cassandra..."

"You even get to have -" Her voice failed her and she was unable to finish her sentence, but her eyes darted towards Siegfried, and Sophitia understood her meaning.

"All I do is stay home, look after your kids, and bake bread all day! But I can fight! You just saw - I can fight! I can protect myself, and I can help you! Please, let me travel with you! Let me actually do something with my life! I don't care if I die - I'd rather die than continue living a life that doesn't have any purpose!"

When Cassandra finished, she was on the verge of tears. Both sisters looked down at their feet, unable to look each other in the eye. Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy merely watched, unsure of what to say.

"...I'm sorry." Sophitia said. "I won't. I can't. If I die - I want you to remain to take care of my children. And if you died...I just...I could never bear it. ...I'm sorry, Cassandra."

A silence came over the group. Just before it became unbearable, a voice was heard.

"Is Sophitia your Master?"

Cassandra turned to face Tira. "...What...?..."

"I asked you if Sophitia is your Master." Tira repeated.

"...I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Is Sophitia the one whom gives you orders? The one whom you obey? Have you devoted yourself to fulfilling Sophitia's every desire?"

"...I think I...I think I see what you're getting at..." Cassandra said.

"If not, I don't see why you'd let Sophitia stop you." Tira finished.

"That's right - that's right!" Cassandra said. "I don't have to obey you, Sophitia. I don't have to go home just because you're telling me to!"

"Wh - what?"

Cassandra turned to Siegfried. "Siegfried!"

Siegfried was surprised to find Cassandra addressing him. "...Yes?"

"Will you let me travel with you?"

"...You're asking me?"

"Well, you're the leader of this group, aren't you? Then it's your decision! Can I come with you, or not?"

"...I..." Siegfried hesitated. He seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment, and then spoke. "...I know what it's like to feel as if you are without a meaning. It's not my place to stand in the way of someone's search for their purpose. And if we could gain another ally..."

"What?" Sophitia asked. "This is stupid! I-"

"How would you stop me, sis? Would you fight me?" Cassandra responded.

"...I..."

"How can you stop me from following you? Will you tie me up and carry me back home? It really won't be so bad if I come with you, sis! We can watch out for one another, and I'll help you guys! I won't be a burden, I promise! And if I am, _then_ I'll leave!"

Sophitia sighed, and looked down. "There's absolutely no stopping you when you've got your mind set on something...you're so stubborn..." She looked up. "...But, fine. I'll let you come with us...as if you were giving me a choice."

Cassandra smiled. The smile was contagious, and Sophitia smiled back. The two sisters loved one another dearly - neither of them wanted to argue; they just wanted to be friends, like always.

"...Welcome to the group, Cassandra." Siegfried said. "...Now, let's get out of here. It'll be getting dark soon, and we need to set up camp."

---

Siegfried sensed someone approaching.

He was lying in his tent. He could hear footsteps coming closer. He, like many others exposed to his kind of lifestyle, could sense evil intentions, and here he sensed none. The person approaching was not a bandit that had snuck into the camp. It was one of the others. Who? Tira? She often snuck into his tent just to sleep beside him. If it wasn't her, there was a chance it might be Ivy or Sophitia. They had requested his 'comfort' a few times in the past.

"...Siegfried. It's me, Cassandra."

Yet it was the one other possibility he hadn't considered.

"Are you awake?" Cassandra whispered.

Siegfried nodded.

"I want to talk to you. It's about finding meaning in life."

Siegfried turned his head to face her. "Can we discuss this in the morning...?"

Cassandra's expression looked pained. "No, please, I want to discuss this with you now."

Siegfried sighed gently. "Alright."

Siegfried crawled out of his tent, as soon as he did, Cassandra took his hand and began practically dragging him out of the camp. He thought that her eagerness was suspicious, but allowed her to lead him to an empty spot a short distance from the camp, anyway.

"...Siegfried...Do you remember all the things I said to Sophitia today?"

Siegfried nodded. "Yes."

"How...she has everything I don't have...everything I wish I had?"

Siegfried nodded again. "I remember."

"...I want to...have one of the things she has. ...Or, maybe I should say, I want to lose one of the things she's lost."

Siegfried was perplexed. Despite his vast experience, he was still naive in a few ways.

Cassandra fell silent, and looked down. Siegfried simply stared at her, waiting for her to speak, almost feeling irritated. However, the more he looked at her, the more he forgave her. It was dark, but the moonlight allowed him to see her clothing - loosely worn, and exposing. The neckline of her shirt had seemingly been pulled down to expose as much of her cleavage as possible. Her body was not as 'developed' as her sister's, but it was well on its way. Her face was not as beautiful as Sophitia's, but held a certain girlish cuteness that appealed to Siegfried almost just as much.

Not again...why can't I stop myself from doing this? 

"...Siegfried, I've...wanted you...since I first saw you..." She began nervously tugging at the fabric of her shirt, exposing her nipples. "...I want you to...be the one...to take my maidenhood..."

Siegfried knew that he should be refusing her, but his mouth was once again unable to form words. _...With her sister, and only hours apart..._

Cassandra looked up at Siegfried with pleading, begging eyes. "Siegfried, would you...would you be the one?" She stepped forward, pressing her body against Siegfried's, forcing a sigh out of his mouth when he felt her breasts press against him.

Cassandra put her arms around Siegfried, and began to let her hands wander. Siegfried's arms involuntarily did the same. Cassandra tugged the fabric of his clothing down, half in an effort to motion for him to get on the ground, half in an attempt to get it off. Siegfried obliged, and lowered himself to a sitting position on the ground. Cassandra sat in his lap.

"...I might not be good at this, but I promise to get better, okay...?...Teach me what to do...And...please, be...gentle..."

She pressed her lips to his, and Siegfried began to passionately kiss her.

_Here I am again._

His hands slid up into her shirt, cupped around her soft breasts, and squeezed them gently.

_In the same situation I always allow myself to get into._

Cassandra began to gyrate her hips against Siegfried's to relieve some of the tension building up inside of her.

_I'll be like this until I die - a slave to my own primitive desires._

Aroused by her movements, Siegfried kissed her harder and with more passion.

_An endless cycle that will never be broken._

"...No."

The word made Cassandra become as still as a statue. Her lips and tongue awkwardly froze in place, and her hand stopped on Siegfried's inner thigh. She pulled her head back slightly to look into Siegfried's eyes.

"...Wh...what?"

He shook his head gently, knowing that he could hurt her if he was too harsh. "...Cassandra...You shouldn't."

Siegfried watched a look of confusion slowly develop on Cassandra's face. "Why? What do you mean?"

"...This isn't right. You don't want this for the right reasons."

"Not right? Right reasons? What are you talking about?"

"...You only want this because you feel like you're missing out - left out. You only want this out of jealousy. But those...aren't the right reasons. That's not why you should want to do this."

Cassandra's face showed slight signs of irritation. "You're deciding whether or not my feelings are right? You're deciding what I should want? ...You're no different than my sister..."

Siegfried shook his head again. "That's not what I mean. All I'm saying is that...this would be so much better if it were...with someone you loved."

"...Loved...?"

"...I've done this...many times. Each time, it felt so wonderful, but then...I started to feel regret for what I was doing. I began to feel...disappointment. Disappointment for allowing myself to view women in this manner. Disappointment for letting my desires control me. Disappointment that I couldn't stop doing it, over and over, even though I knew that it was wrong.

"It felt wrong for so many reasons, and the guilt tore at me afterwards, no matter how much I enjoyed the act. It's taken me a long time, but I've realized that one of the reasons why it feels bad is because something is missing...I don't have feelings for the woman I'm doing it with. It would feel so much better if I wanted it because it felt right - if I wanted it because I had strong feelings for that woman. But instead, I just want it out of an instinct, a base desire.

"...Not too long ago, my body was a monstrosity. I was an abomination that would make any normal woman scream in terror and run away. I didn't think that any woman would ever want to touch me. ...But...for the first time in my life, I find myself the subject of women's desire. I never would have thought this possible...But, as much as your affection flatters me...I can't do this with you, Cassandra.

"I don't want you to feel what I've felt. Regret, self-disappointment, shame. I want you to share yourself with a man whom you love, and whom returns your love. Don't do this with someone just so you're no longer 'missing out' on the experience. Do this with someone because it's right. Because of love. ...Once again, I'm sorry, Cassandra, but I won't do this with you."

As Siegfried spoke, Cassandra slowly removed herself from his lap, knowing that her position was inappropriate for the new mood. At first, Cassandra felt rejected, but as Siegfried spoke, and she learned his reason for denying her, she felt relief, as well as a tremendous amount of respect for him. She understood the wisdom behind Siegfried's words, and his speech did much to soothe her insecurities. Even so, she could not help but feel a small degree of disappointment that she didn't get to do as she'd wished.

"...Cassandra...I haven't...hurt you, have I?"

"Oh, no, it...I understand. ...You're right. It's better to wait. Thanks, for...stopping me."

Siegfried smiled slightly. "I'm glad you're taking this well. ...Let's go back to camp, and go to sleep."

Cassandra nodded, and the two of them got up and began walking back to camp. As she walked, Cassandra considered Siegfried's words.

_...You said I should make love to a man I've fallen in love with. ...Well, after tonight, I think I've found that man...And, if he must love me, too, then I'll just have to find a way to capture his heart..._


	28. Neglected Pet

Constantly invaded by Japanese Pirates, the great Ming Empire of the East was one of the countries that expended great effort to search for Soul Edge - mistakenly believing it to be a sword of salvation rather than an evil and cursed sword - to protect its people and regain its dignity. In recent times, where had been three great quests to obtain Soul Edge, and three great failures. The first two search parties never returned, and the third group, was also unsuccessful in finding Soul Edge, which they knew by the name of the "Hero's Sword". The failure of the third quest devastated the Emperor, given that the group consisted of warriors hand-picked from his royal guards.

Xianghua was one of the members of the third group that had been assigned the prestigious honor of the search for Soul Edge. However, the failure of her mission had caused her to falling into disfavor with the Emperor, and in his anger, he stripped Xianghua of her rank of royal guard, and reassigned to a menial position that she had no desire to do. Her family lamented her fall from grace, but Xianghua had reason to be content.

In truth, she actually found Soul Edge four years ago. But, the weapon said to be a Hero's Sword turned out to be an evil sword that had an infinite appetite for human souls. "Nothing good will come of this if I bring such a sword back to my country." Xianghua decided. "I must destroy this evil thing."

She battled Soul Edge with the help of her companion, Kilik, inside of a fiery vortex created by the weapon. She managed to shatter the evil sword, but, regrettably, Soul Calibur was lost in the void of the vortex when they escaped from it. "You must cut your own path in life..." Xianghua may have lost her mother's keepsake sword, but her mother's last words remained clear in her mind. She firmly believed that she had made the right decision.

However, one day, an incident occurred which devastated Xianghua. The Emperor attacked a castle near the border of her homeland. The Empire justified its attack by publicly stating that the castle was plotting to rise in revolt. But Xianghua found out the truth from Ming spies.

A man from the second search team apparently had found the Hero's Sword, but refused to return and holed himself up in the castle. He did not respond to any of the messengers sent to summon him, and the lord of the castle refused to turn him over. The Emperor was convinced that the lord of the castle refused to turn over the weapon in order to keep it for himself. As a result, soldiers were dispatched to retrieve the sword. Although the castle fell, the sword could not be found.

The Emperor ordered Xianghua to investigate the remains of the castle. He reasoned that she was the only person who came within reach of Soul Edge, and that her experience and knowledge of the sword would be valuable in locating it amongst the rubble of the castle.

Xianghua had destroyed the evil sword, so the castle could not have housed Soul Edge. Had she reported the truth, the tragic incident may never have happened. Dispatched to the battlegrounds of the castle, she left with a heavy heart. Gathering information from the few remaining survivors and tattered records, Xianghua discovered that an object referred to as a Soul Edge fragment had existed there.

If it was truly a piece of Soul Edge, there had to be those who sensed its evil energy. That would explain why the individual who found the fragment hesitated to surrender it to the Emperor. From what she gathered about the shard, it was hard to believe that the lord of the castle would desire such an insignificant little object for himself. Could it be that the fragment was really from the accursed Soul Edge?

The weapon that Xianghua believed she had destroyed may still be wreaking havoc unto the world!

If this proved to be the truth, someone had to find every single fragment and crush them down until nothing remained. Xianghua convinced herself that this was a burden she had to bear, since she failed to destroy Soul Edge completely the first time.

Xianghua moved quickly once her mind was settled on the matter - she resigned her Emperor's assigned duty that very night, and began a new quest.

During her quest, she was reunited with Kilik. One day, the two of them arrived at a city that was enveloped in an evil energy that was not Soul Edge. Soon, they were approached by a strange man with a scythe. The man threatened Kilik, and their weapons clashed. Kilik lost. He was horribly wounded. The man showed no interest in Xianghua. After defeating Kilik, he left without even a glance toward her.

A feeling of helplessness gripped her heart. "I couldn't do anything..." In the end, she hadn't been able to help at all. She, who had said that she would destroy the cursed sword, hadn't been able to stand up against a threat in her path...The only thing she had been able to do was fight back her tears and run away, carrying Kilik.

She had tended his wounds, and although his life was no longer in danger, Kilik did not open his eyes. Frantically wondering what to do, Xianghua remembered Kilik's teacher, a man who lived in a hermitage. Since Kilik had no family, she couldn't think of anyone to whom she could turn besides that old man - Edgemaster.

When she arrived at the sword master's hermitage, the old man welcomed her warmly. He informed her that if he dedicated himself to tending him, Kilik would recover. Relieved by the old man's words, Xianghua entrusted him with a letter to Kilik and left the hermitage that same day.

After returning to her country, she followed the Edgemaster's suggestion, and placed herself in the care of a retired general. Having run away from the military, Xianghua would normally have been arrested, but upon reading the letter sent by Edgemaster, the general said that he would shelter her. He had spent his younger days in training at the Ling-Sheng Su temple, and Edgemaster had taught him. The general allowed Xianghua to stay at his mansion if she worked there as a guard.

"I must become stronger; please, train me to be a better fighter!" Xianghua pleaded with the general. He was surprised to hear this. He had thought that her skills, though self-taught, were nevertheless more than sufficient. Regardless, he did his best to aid her. Even though he had retired, skilled warriors still gathered under him. Amongst them was an exceptionally skilled man whom he had employed as an instructor. Noticing the swordsmanship of the Ling-Sheng Su temple in Xianghua's style, he became interested in her, and approached her himself about becoming her training partner. Devoting herself wholeheartedly to her training, Xianghua increased her skills considerably in a short time.

Ever faster, ever sharper...Each time she swung, her power grew stronger, and her aim surer. Despite knowing this, she was unable to wipe away the uneasiness that had fallen over her heart.

"Even if I increase my power, if I can't use it when I need it, it's useless. When I fought against the cursed sword, Kilik was with me. But, if I'm alone..." Xianghua tried her best to force these doubts aside. "No. I mustn't fear. I have to keep my spirits up!"

"Your blade is keen. However, it appears that you are forcing yourself." Her instructor said. He cautioned her that she was focusing too exclusively on her strength. Xianghua told him of what troubled her. After hearing her concerns, he began to speak softly. "In combat, it is inevitable that one's heart will waver. But it is not wise to try only to reject and refuse these feelings. Sometimes, the path of the warrior requires letting in dark feelings, weighing them, then letting them go."

From that day forward, Xianghua began to train not her swordsmanship, but her soul. Her heart would be as water. A hard, solid heart will shatter upon the sharp point of fear, but when water is pierced or cut, it does not resist - by permitting everything to pass through, it does not break. This was the philosophy she had decided upon. She no longer feared the swaying of her heart.

It had been several months since she had come to visit the general's mansion. Xianghua's blade now possessed both its past elegance and a newfound strength. She had grown strong. She now felt comfortable believing that. Xianghua turned her thoughts to that which awaited her in the west. Inside her heart, she had made a small promise to herself. When she met Kilik, she would proudly announce, "Sorry to keep you waiting! My skills have finally caught up with yours!"

Feeling that the time had come to set out on her journey once more, she decided that she would leave as soon as she had proved to herself that she could handle a threat thrown against the ones she cared for. She would serve as a guard a short while longer.

---

Shortly after Astaroth had been defeated, the group had begun to sense an evil energy coming from the West. Siegfried in particular felt this energy the strongest. For reasons he could not explain, he began to feel uneasy and worried, as if danger was nearby and he was being threatened. The others felt the same way, to a lesser degree. They might have decided to investigate the energy - but the energy instilled them with an ominous, foreboding feeling, and the thought of investigating it would not even enter their minds. Like a shepherd guiding a flock of sheep, the evil energy drew them away from the West, and into the East.

They considered the possibility that their quests had yielded little fruit because they had been searching in the West, and that the answer was not to be found there. Instead, they decided to travel to the East, which was known for its powerful purification arts. They would surely have much better chances in that land than they would while in the West.

The group headed east along the Silk Road, and eventually entered Ming. It was said that this country had sent spies throughout the land in search of Soul Edge. In Ming's capital, there was supposedly a mansion which contained the information those spies had presumably brought back.

Thinking that the information would probably be useful to them, Siegfried and the others headed to the mansion. It was on the outskirts of Ming's capital city. When they reached the mansion's front gates and requested to see the information regarding Soul Edge, they were denied. Only the general could permit people to view that information, and the general himself was away on a short trip to see an old friend. He was expected to return within a few days, and Siegfried and the others would have to wait until then. Reluctantly, they turned around, headed back to the city, and found an inn to stay at for the night. But one soul was too restless to sleep.

---

Tira was a bird trapped in a cage. Then, she was a stray dog. Finally, it seemed she'd found her place. She thought that she'd be happy as long as someone was holding her leash. But lately, she was beginning to wonder if she was wrong. A man held her leash - but that was all that he did. He did not love her anymore - or, at least, that's what she thought.

In the beginning, it was just the two of them. She'd still get chills and blush when she thought about those early times, when they would spend hours experimenting with sex, as infatuated with one another as a teenage couple. It was probably the happiest time of her life. Back then, just the sight of her Master would even calm her blood lust.

But it only lasted until the trip from Ostrheinsburg to the British Empire. That's when the white-haired devil joined them. Her Master changed his behavior after she joined them. He was more serious from then on. Tira realized that he was normally a very serious man, and that he'd let her see a side of him he'd never let anyone else see. In a way, she felt honored, but she also felt as if the man she'd been so infatuated with had been replaced - killed. Not only that, but that white-haired devil...that bitch seduced him and slept with him! She'd even known that Tira was watching, and had smiled at her afterwards. Tira pretended that she'd forgiven and forgotten, but she would never forgive Ivy for what she did that night. Never.

Tira always wondered if her Master had slept with Ivy again after that. She thought she sometimes smelled Ivy's scent on her Master - or maybe she was just imagining it. She offered herself to her Master more often than ever during those times, but more and more, he started to decline her offers. Was it Ivy that was satisfying him? Had she grown stale to him? Or was it the quest that was stealing him from her?

The blonde woman joined. She was amiable. But Tira knew that something had gone on between them, and suspected that they were closer than they appeared.

She and her Master once held one another so close, but now she was only holding onto him by a loose grip, and she feared that it wouldn't be long before he slipped from her fingers. He'd fall into another woman's embrace, or simply be lost to him forever.

Tira felt daggers twisting into her heart, and sometimes it took every ounce of strength she had to hold back the tears. She was once so proud to have him as her Master, but now he hardly paid her any mind at all. What good is a servant if she is never called upon to serve? What purpose did she have?

To Tira, there was only one course of action to take. She would have to win back her Master's affection. She would have to wrest him from the grasp of the other women by re-affirming her worth. It was time for her to take action on her own.

Her Master was unhappy. He wanted the information inside the mansion, but wasn't allowed in. So, she'd just sneak inside, steal the information, and bring it to him. It'd be as simple as that, and then her Master would see her value once more. She'd infiltrated the most well-guarded strongholds in the land and pulled off assassinations without a single soul knowing she was there - sneaking into a mansion was nothing that a former member of the Bird of Passage could not do.

It was easy enough for Tira to sneak out of the inn without the group knowing - hardly anyone ever paid attention to her anymore. But that'd change soon. Wearing the darkness of night as a cloak, she slinked through alleys and slipped through shadows, keeping herself hidden from view as she headed for the mansion. She felt like she was on a mission once more, and the instincts she'd been suppressing for months rose powerfully within her. It took almost all of her willpower not to quickly behead that man walking home, or slice through that young couple sharing affection underneath a tree. No, instead of making the 'detours' she would have made months ago, she remembered to keep herself under control - her Master would hate her if he ever found out what she often dreamed of doing to people.

Finally, it was within sight - the mansion. The title of the 'mansion' was quite misleading. It was the former residence of the royal family, and from its size and beauty, the term 'palace' would have fit it more. Its intimidating appearance encouraged the feeling of being on a mission, and Tira acted accordingly. First, she had to observe the area. A nearby tree would serve as an acceptable "crow's nest". She climbed the tree with ease, and took up a perch on the upper branches. She counted the guards, and observed the landscape. Most of the area was made up of water, and a combination of bridges and peninsulas created a deep, complex landscape. Tira had never had the job of infiltrating such a landscape, and took pleasure in mentally mapping out a route from her position to the mansion. She pretended this was a mission in which no casualties were allowed, and planned a path that would not take her into any of the guards' views.

The air became misty. The area was known for the morning mist that added an extra coat of beauty to its appearance. Tonight, it would simply provide Tira with extra stealth. She was almost disappointed by how easy her mission would be, but did not let that stop her.

Now that her route was planned out, it was time to move. She slipped out of the tree, and began scurrying towards the mansion, keeping her body lowered close to the ground. She moved without making a sound, and would sometimes slip right behind guards who would never know she was there. The guard who came closest to spotting her was the one who felt a chill as she rushed passed him. One might say he felt Tira mentally caress his throat with her blade as she entertained the thought of cutting him for a brief moment.

Tira's dash to the mansion was as flawless as it was swift. Once she reached the outer walls of the mansion itself, she began skulking around the perimeter, looking for a way in. Hello, what's this? A small, walled-off area attached to the back of the mansion. The walls weren't too high for Tira to jump on top of, and she did just that. She looked down at a small, private garden, most likely maintained by the retired general. There was a door leading into the small garden area. Tira had found her way in. She leapt down into the garden, careful not to land on any of the flowers - more out of habit of leaving no traces of her presence than respecting the general's hobby. She slipped over to the door. A guard was painted on the door in the Chinese art style. Tira dismissed it as simply being art, but wondered if perhaps there was a real guard stationed on the other side of the door. Tira flattened herself up against the wall next to the door, and knocked her knuckles on the wall once. Nothing. Then, the door opened.

Although Tira had been taught first and foremost how to kill people most efficiently, and had subsequently taught herself how to kill people most enjoyably, she had also been taught how to incapacitate enemies for jobs where casualties would compromise the purpose of the mission. Although the current level of science in her time would never allow her to fully understand the human nervous system, she had been taught exactly where to strike a person's body in order to debilitate them. She knew over a dozen ways to render a person unconscious. Her only problem was deciding which techinque to use on the guard opening the door.

The human nervous system is so intertwined that damage to a nerve in one part of the body can cause dramatic results elsewhere. This is why, when Tira's fist shot out and jabbed the guard's jaw sharply, striking his mandible nerve and setting off a chain reaction that reduced oxygen and blood flow to his brain, his unconsciousness occurred immediately. The guard's body fell to the ground, but by the time it did, the door was shut, and Tira was inside.

Despite the heavy ringblade that Tira was wearing on her back, she might have been a housecat, as quiet as she slipped through the mansion. But, unlike a housecat, she was liquid stealth. She poured through halls, seeped through doors, and dripped through rooms, systematically exploring every inch of the mansion for anything that looked useful. She could tell the location of every guard in the vicinity merely by standing perfectly still and listening. A slight sound here - a vibration there - she knew which rooms to leak into quietly, and which rooms to surge into quickly before knocking out a guard. She hid the bodies, of course. The Chinese had different architecture than she was used to, but there were always makeshift hiding places.

Finally, after she had explored about half of the mansion, she found a room guarded by two men. Tira convinced them to leave their posts by tossing a coin down the hall. The moment they stepped away from the door to investigate, Tira snuck over and slipped inside.

It was similar to how she had imagined it. A chair, a desk. A table in the middle of the room with a large map of the world with markings on it. A shelf with dusty old books on it. Some more tables and shelves with objects she couldn't quite identify. Almost everything in this room was old and dusty, but each item gave off its own energy. Some objects gave her a feeling similar to fear. Other objects seemed to emanate hope. Tira knew she'd found the right room. The room practically smelled of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur.

A wave of joy came crashing down upon Tira. She'd reached her goal. She'd found the information. Now her Master would value her again...love her again. She would be useful, worthy, valuable, her Master would be happy to have her around, he'd reward her, praise her, call upon her to tend to the desires of the night, and once again she'd lay in his -

_How am I going to get all of this back to Master?_

Tira hesitated. Her euphoria hovered in place for a moment. She tried to find an answer that would soothe her worry. But she could not find one. He jubilation slowly began to decline, and then collapsed to the floor.

_How am I going to get all of this back to Master?_

She slowly realized that her plan was flawed. She hadn't given any thought to what form the "information" might take. The thought of 'information' subconsciously conjured up an image of words on paper, and she hadn't thought that the 'information' might be too heavy for her to carry back. There were too many objects in this room to move all at once. The books alone had to weigh at least as much as her ringblade. She could drag grown men a few feet into hiding places, but toting a dozen heavy tomes around was out of the question.

She began to panic. Was her chance for redemption lost? Had her mission ended in failure? Had all her effort been for naught?

No. No, she could still take at least a few items back to her Master. But which? Everything looked so valuable. She frantically scanned the items in the room, trying to find a justification for all her trouble so far. ...There! A book next to the others on the shelf, except it was open, and sitting on a pedestal. It had to be the most important object in the room. She'd take that, and it'd be enough proof for her Master that she was still helpful.

Tira approached the book, closed it, grabbed it, turned around, and started walking away.

She took one step before being yanked violently backwards.

She dropped the book, drew her ringblade, and whirled around to face her opponent.

But there was none.

She did, however, see that the book she had dropped was hovering in midair. No, there was no magic incantation preventing it from leaving the pedestal - it was being suspended by a chain. Tira had noticed the chain before, but didn't think that it was actually attached to the book. That book wasn't going anywhere. Becoming exasperated, Tira reached for the bookshelf, grabbed another book, and yanked it out. She could only pull it a few feet.

That book was chained, as well.

"What...?" A frightened gasp escaped Tira's lips as the realization slowly came over her. Frantically, fearfully, she yanked every book from its spot in the shelf to find that they were all chained down and couldn't be moved more than a few feet. In anger, she drew her ringblade once again, and sliced at the chains. She couldn't make a dent in them.

She turned towards the map. It was nailed to the table in several spots - trying to remove it would result in the entire thing being torn.

She turned towards the various objects laying on tables. The objects related to Soul Edge gave her a feeling of such disgust that she could not bring herself to touch them. The objects related to Soul Calibur gave her a feeling of such reverence that she could not bring herself to touch them, either.

Tira realized that she did not have the power to remove anything from this room. The books, the map, anything else, any form of information at all. Could she memorize the map? Read the books? No, it would take hours, and the sun would be rising soon. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Things weren't going to change. She would fall back into the shadows. She'd still be forgotten again. Ignored again.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a woman. She was Chinese, and long blue ribbons adorned her medium-length brown hair. She was wearing a pink top and bluish-green pants that might have made her look comical were she not holding a long Chinese sword and holding it in a way that proved she knew how to use it well. She had a youthful appearance and cute face, but when she beheld Tira, her eyes flashed with anger, and her face became serious.

"...Intruder." She whispered.

"...Impossible. How could anyone know I was here?" Tira wondered aloud, too shocked from being discovered to even realize that the woman was a threat to her. "I was perfect. I was flawless. I did nothing that gave me away. I - "

"The alarm went off 13 times." The Chinese woman said.

"...What?"

"Once for every time you yanked on a chain."

Tira's shock turned to anger. Anger at herself for making so foolish a mistake. Then anger at herself for failing her mission so completely. Then anger at her situation - her dreams of redeeming herself for her Master were crushed. Then anger at the present - she was caught, being stared down by a guard. If Master found out, he'd be furious. He might even disown her!

"You've trespassed onto this property without permission of the owner, obviously with the intent of stealing valuable information. These are criminal acts. You'll be arrested for this." The Chinese woman said, obviously taking Tira's offenses very seriously. However, her words dripped with amateurism - she seemed more like a little girl than a tough guard, and came off as a kid trying to act like an adult. Her high-pitched voice and clownish outfit made her difficult to take seriously. "Hey! Are you listening to me? You're in really big trouble, you know!"

Tira began shaking. The woman - the _girl_ was infinitely annoying. Tira was full of anger at herself, her situation, her life, everything, and now this annoying girl was squeaking at her. All of Tira's anger began to channel towards one person.

"Did you hear me?" The Chinese woman asked. "Put down your weapon now, and - "

"SHUT UP!"

The Chinese woman was very surprised.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Tira screamed.

"...Uh..." The woman squeaked, taken back, but then regained her composure. "...Hey! YOU shut up! You're the criminal here!"

"You have NO idea...NO idea what I'm going through! My life has been AWFUL! I have NO happiness! My Master doesn't even LOVE me any more! Everyone just IGNORES me! And my chance to fix everything was ruined by DAMN CHAINS AND NAILS!"

"J-just put your weapon down! Put it down now!" The woman said, obviously very flustered by Tira's outburst.

"Do you think I CARE? Do you have any idea who I AM? I could kill everyone in this mansion in minutes! I don't care if I'm trespassing! I can't get information to my Master!"

The Chinese woman was obviously unsure of what to say. "Uh...D-Don't make me have to use force!"

"UGH! SHUT UP! God, you're annoying! I should kill you!" Tira said through clenched teeth, gripping her ringblade tightly.

The woman's response to Tira's words seemed more natural this time; she raised her sword in a defensive stance. "Are you threatening me?"

_This pink little girl thinks she stands a chance against ME? The audacity! I should...should...!_

At that moment, the repressed bloodlust that Tira had been attempting to hold at bay for months was let loose. Like an angry lion bursting out of its cage, Tira's thirst for death erupted, and she screamed the feral roar of an animal about to kill, and lunged towards the woman.


	29. Water Dance

The intruder's sudden emotional outbursts and wild lunge surprised Xianghua for a moment, but she was trained far too well to let herself be caught off guard that easily. Xianghua twirled to the side to dodge her opponent's leap, and, with her sword positioned behind her back, stabbed it at the woman. She definitely would have preferred to use only non-fatal attacks on a mere intruder, but Xianghua knew that her life was in danger the moment her enemy moved with such agility and swung her weapon with such force.

The woman turned Xianghua's blade aside merely by turning her own weapon to deflect the blow. Xianghua recovered quickly, slashing and twirling her sword at her opponent, having been taught to never give one's enemy extra time to attack. The intruder simply slid back and held her weapon in a defensive position to block Xianghua's blows, but immediately went on the offensive again.

The woman dashed towards Xianghua with such litheness that it almost seemed supernatural - but what was more frightening was the look in her eyes. It was an animalistic, feral look, as if she was more animal than human. Xianghua could tell that something was broken within this woman, but did not have the time or interest to think about it. She twirled her sword in the defensive position she'd been taught to, and deflected most of the woman's attacks, although a few nicks began to appear on her body when she wasn't able to dodge a blow in time.

Xianghua knew that her situation would only get worse if she let this beast-woman continue to have the upper hand, so she stopped defending and started attacking again. She stabbed and thrust with her sword, but no matter how many dozens of times she tried, she could not land a blow on her enemy. The woman bent herself back and to the side at seemingly impossible angles to avoid blows. She was just as flexible and elastic as she was fast and dangerous.

Xianghua tried to counter this by swinging her sword in wide arcs, but this tactic was not very effective, either. The fight was only getting worse for Xianghua. She began to look for holes in her opponent's defense. There was only one very obvious one - the gaping hole in her ring-shaped weapon. The weapon was so bizarre it was almost distracting - Xianghua had never seen someone fight with a giant ring; it seemed so unfeasible. Xianghua began to try to aim stabs at the hole of the ring. This strategy wasn't as sound at it seemed; the woman would simply turn her weapon perpendicular to the ground, making it a thin line rather than a circle. Xianghua decided to try once more to stab through the ring at her opponent - and made a glaring mistake.

The woman allowed Xianghua to stab her sword through the ring - then slid forward so Xianghua's entire arm was through the ring, and jerked it sharply to the right. Xianghua went flying to the side, and into a corner - the sharp edge of the ring had also cut her arm. The sharp pain caused Xianghua to loose her grip on her sword, and it went flying to the side.

Before Xianghua could look up, the woman had pounced on her, pinning her into the corner with her circular weapon, the weapon's blade just beneath her neck. The woman grabbed Xianghua's head, and tried to force her neck down onto the blade. Xianghua put her feet on the inside of the ring, and tried to push it away. She exerted enough force to keep the blade away from her neck, but she wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer.

The woman gripped her hair tight and pulled Xianghua closer to the blade. Xianghua watched the blade inching closer and closer - it'd slice into her neck slowly, and she could not think of a more painful decapitation than a slow one.

As her eyes were fixated on the blade that would be in her neck within a few moments, she could only think of one thing.

"...Kilik."

Her enemy's grip seemed to let up a little. Xianghua turned her eyes toward the woman's. The feral thirst for blood was still there, but it seemed to be fading.

"...Kilik...?..." The woman muttered. "...The one with the staff?"

Xianghua's eyes went wide. "You know Kilik?"

The woman's eyes wavered. The animalistic look was being replaced by a puzzled one. "...He saved Master's life."

Now it was Xianghua's turn to be puzzled. "What...?"

"It doesn't matter!" The woman barked, tightening her grip on Xianghua again.

Xianghua saw no way to save her life, but if this woman knew Kilik, then maybe, just maybe...

"Did Kilik mention me? ...Xianghua?"

The woman's grip let up again.

"...Xianghua...?..."

_"The woman you mentioned...Xianghua."_

_"Yes?"_

_"Do you...love her?"_

_"...I'm not sure what I would call my feelings for her. We care for one another..._"

The words shared by Kilik and Sophitia came to Tira's mind. Kilik cared for Xianghua. Kilik had saved Tira's Master, so it would be wrong to harm Kilik. If harming Xianghua would harm Kilik, then it would be wrong to harm Xianghua.

_"...We are devoted to one another..."_

Devoted...like a slave's devotion to her master? Is that what love is? Devotion? If that was the case, then Tira loved her Master.

_"If you're in love, then I want you to go find the one whom you love, and be with her. Always. And never betray her. If she disappoints you, work out your differences. Don't harbor bad feelings inside until they are released in a destructive way."_

Tira remembered thinking that Sophitia's advice to Kilik sounded wise, and now that advice applied to her, as well. She had harbored her feelings, and they had been released destructively. It would have been better if she'd simply worked out her differences with -

Tira's inner thoughts were shattered by the feeling of two feet slamming into her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her, and she loosened her grip on her weapon. Xianghua shoved hard on the ringblade, pushing Tira onto her back, and pinning her down with her own weapon, the blade dangerously close to her neck. It had only taken a scant few moments for the situation to reverse completely.

"Let me go." Tira said flatly. It was not a plead or a cry for mercy. She had come to understand that she did not belong there, and was asking to be allowed to leave. Xianghua was not very understanding.

"...What? No! You've resisted arrest and assaulted a guard! You're going to be punished!"

"I know now that my choice was wrong. I understand that I should have simply spoken with my Master."

"I don't know what you're babbling about. Just give up!"

Tira removed the dagger from its sheath, and in one swift movement, plunged it into Xianghua's throat, twisted it in as deep as it would go, and then drew it across Xianghua's neck until

No.

Tira pressed the tip of the blade against Xianghua's throat, causing a tiny pinprick of red to appear, but did not plunge it in.

"Master detests killing. It would disappoint my Master if I killed you. But I will kill you if that is the only way to return to my Master."

Xianghua did not spend much time thinking over her situation. Moving very slowly and carefully, she let go of Tira's ringblade, and rose off of her. The moment Tira was able to, she rolled to the side, got to her feet, slung her ringblade over her shoulder, ran towards the nearest window, and leapt through it.

Xianghua ran to the window and looked out of it, but saw no sign at all of the intruder. She slammed her fists on the windowsill, and then began telling the other guards to search the area and be on high alert.

---

"Siegfried, we're being followed."

"I know."

"Doesn't that concern you? There must be at least ten guards trailing us."

"We've done nothing wrong. They will do us no harm as long as we cause no trouble."

"Is it just me, or does this park have at least twice as many guards as it did yesterday?"

"It's not just you."

"They're all staring at us, and have their hands beside their weapons. I know we're a group of suspicious foreigners, but is this really necessary?"

"I overheard someone mention that a thief broke into the mansion last night."

The group fell silent after that, but everyone said the same thing to themselves in their minds.

_Tira._

After the group had woken up and heard that the general had returned, they made plans to travel to the mansion as soon as possible. However, their trip was belayed by the search for a missing person - Tira. Tira hadn't been in her room, and after a short search, they couldn't locate her anywhere. They eventually decided to give up and go to the mansion without Tira. But this information about a break-in seemed to provide a piece to the puzzle.

Tira rarely spoke or took action - but she had a distinct personality and way of thinking. Siegfried and his group were quite familiar with the way Tira's mind worked - she was always trying to be helpful, but rarely succeeded at it. Breaking into the mansion to try to steal information on Soul Edge was exactly the sort of thing that Tira would be likely to do. However, it was still a mystery why she was missing.

Siegfried and the others now reached the large courtyard in front of the mansion. There were more guards in this area than there were anywhere else in the park. The group approached the large front doors of the mansion, which was guarded by several men. The closer Siegfried came, the more prepared for battle the guards seemed. Siegfried, however, retained a calm appearance and demeanor, as if nothing was out of place about the situation.

"Greetings." Siegfried said. "We wish to have an audience with the General."

At first, the guards did nothing. Then, reluctantly, one of them turned, opened one of the doors, stepped inside, and stepped back out a moment later.

"We're sorry, but the General won't be seeing anyone today."

The voice had not come from any of the men. In fact, it did not sound like it had come from a man at all. It was a youthful, female voice.

The guards parted, and a petite woman walked through the mansion doors, and stood before Siegfried and the others. She was dressed similarly to the other guards, but her uniform was slightly different, and implied that she was a rank above the others.

She spoke again. "You see, there was a break-in last night, so we're not very comfortable accepting visitors at the moment." The woman's words were casual, and she made no attempt at sounding formal. It was just as well - the woman had such a cutesy appearance that if she'd tried to act like a tough guard captain, Siegfried and the others would have had to suppress laughter.

The woman looked uninterested in them. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, as if she was worried about something. The break-in must have been particularly stressful for her. "The General is usually very hospitable and glad to give tours of his mansion, but..." She paused. At first, she had not seemed to regard Siegfried and his group without much concern, but after her eyes had settled on Siegfried, she did not take her gaze off of him. As she spoke, her eyes slowly began to look more and more suspicious, and she eyed Siegfried up and down warily, finally seeming like a real guard. "...not today." Now she seemed to be even more preoccupied than before, as if she was desperately trying to remember something.

"...Have we met before?" She asked, her eyes fixated on Siegfried.

The woman looked familiar to him - or, rather, 'felt' familiar. He had felt her energy once before in his life; of that, he was sure. Of when, he was not sure. Her appearance was familiar to him as well, but only slightly. His memories of what he'd seen as Nightmare were difficult to recall; perhaps he'd met this woman when he was still Nightmare. He certainly did remember feeling her energy during a very important moment in his life. But, when...?

"...I believe that perhaps we have." Siegfried said.

Suddenly, a look of revelation came over the woman's face, as if she'd remembered something. She eyed Siegfried differently now - as if he was dangerous, a threat.

"...Tell me..." She said, in a guarded tone of voice. "...have you heard of the Azure Knight?"

"He was defeated a long time ago." Siegfried said, perhaps too quickly.

"...But have you heard of the recent rumors?"

"...Recent rumors?" Siegfried asked, nearly caught off guard for once.

"Yes...the rumors that a man in azure-colored armor is committing slaughter after slaughter in Europe?

Siegfried's right arm throbbed.

A familiar wave of dread washed over the group.

Nightmare...returned?

"...No. It would be impossible for him to return now." Siegfried said sternly.

The woman's eyebrow arched. "Impossible? Why?"

Siegfried was in a corner. He could not simply come out and admit that he was once the Azure Knight while in the middle of a courtyard full of guards.

...But it IS impossible for Nightmare to return. I am not possessed by Soul Edge, so he cannot return. ...But, could this rumor somehow be true? Could there actually be a way for Nightmare to return?

Siegfried curiously pondered this possibility.

And, then, it hit him like the flat side of a Zweihänder.

"...Of course." He whispered. "That's what it was..."

"Why have you come here?" Xianghua asked.

"The dark energy we felt in the West was Nightmare!" Siegfried blurted out.

Xianghua blinked. "What?"

"Madam - could I inquire of your name?" Siegfried asked, almost hurriedly.

"...Temporary Captain Xianghua Chai." The woman said.

Siegfried realized who this woman was immediately. She was the woman who had defeated him the first time he had become Nightmare. "The same Xianghua that Kilik mentioned?" A few of the women in his group asked.

"Kilik?" Xianghua chirped. "You know him, as well? The intruder last night knew Kilik, too...said he saved her Master."

"The intruder - what happened to her?" Siegfried asked.

"...Escaped." Xianghua muttered. "But, more importantly, how do you know Kilik?"

"...We sought one who could purify evil energy, and our search led us to him. He mentioned you."

"...I see..." Xianghua said to herself. "And, tell me - why have you come here?"

"We came here searching for information about Soul Edge. We know firsthand what a wicked monstrosity it is, and seek its destruction."

Xianghua nodded, as if hearing profound words. "I see. I understand now."

She unsheathed her sword, and pointed its tip at Siegfried.

"You are the Azure Knight!"

Siegfried opened his mouth to protest, but the woman did not give him a chance.

"You are also the 'Master' of the intruder who broke in last night! The entire burglary was a sinister plot that you orchestrated! You seek information about how Soul Edge can be destroyed because you wish to prevent its destruction! You are a band of evildoers most foul, and in the name of justice, I will punish you!" Xianghua concluded, standing on one foot and striking a dramatic pose.

Siegfried and the rest had no time to object. Most of the guards had drawn their weapons after Xianghua's first accusation, and by her last statement, all hands in the courtyard were holding weapons or prepared to draw them. A small number of guards had even run away after hearing that Siegfried may be the Azure Knight.

Siegfried and his group were quickly encircled by a few dozen guards. Although Siegfried was a pacifist, the fighter in him weighed his chances. As Nightmare, he'd defeated armies of hundreds of men. However, as his normal self, even with the women on his side, it was not certain if he could survive this battle. He would have to strategize quickly, fight as fiercely as Nightmare had, and spill the blood of many men to live through the coming -

"Just kidding!"

All heads turned towards Xianghua with the same expression - disbelief.

"Don't worry, I believe you. I know you're not Nightmare. You remind me of him, but you couldn't be him - I sense that your intentions are pure and good. I have a feeling you're connected to the intruder, but I also have a feeling that she was acting on her own."

Xianghua stared at a sea of extremely disappointed faces.

"...It was only a joke. C'mon, don't be mad."

---

The General emerged from his mansion, and demanded to know exactly what was going on in his courtyard. Siegfried quickly explained everything from the beginning to avoid any further misunderstandings. The curtain of distrust and confusion was quickly lifted, and all parties were finally allowed to be at ease once more.

After learning of Siegfried's past identity, the General was initially shocked, but quickly understood that the two of them were separate entities. The General then considered Siegfried and his group to be very important for their wealth of knowledge about Soul Edge, and invited them inside (under the condition that they temporarily relinquish their weapons). They were led to the room that contained the information they sought, and exchanged the knowledge they possessed.

Unfortunately, it was Siegfried's side who held more relevant knowledge of Soul Edge. Their first-hand experiences (and the book that Ivy had once possessed) held more information than the room did, and most of the information contained in that room was only miscellaneous details about Soul Edge, its recorded appearances throughout history, and so on. Although Siegfried and the others contributed much to this room, the General was very grateful to them for their assistance, but the General's assorted details about Soul Edge and its history was of little help to them. Despite this, the rest of the day was quite enjoyable, as Siegfried and the others heard fantastic tales of the history of Soul Edge.

Siegfried and the others apologized for Tira's intrusion, explaining that she had meant no harm, and Xianghua and the General decided to overlook Tira's transgressions in light of Siegfried's contributions to their archives. Finally, it was time for them to part ways.

"Where do you think Tira has gone?" Xianghua asked.

"I doubt she has gone far, or that her leave will be a permanent one."

"About those rumors of Nightmare..."

Siegfried nodded solemnly. "I do not know how the Azure Knight could have revived, but as I sensed his presence, I fear the rumors may be all too true."

"What will you do about him?"

"If anything is capable of unlocking the evil energy within the Soul Embrace, it is that abomination. Before, we only feared the possibility that an evil force would arise and threaten to wield Soul Edge again - now, that possibility may have become a reality. We will need to double our efforts. Purification may or may not be the answer, but it's the only lead we have. Where can we find the most powerful purification arts?"

"The farther East one goes, the stronger such arts become. The most powerful purification arts are found in an island nation called Japan."

"Then that will be our next destination."

"...Wait." Xianghua said, scrunching up her face. "At the moment, Japan is in the middle of a war. There are no ships willing to sail to a country entangled in a war. That's suicide."

"I guess that means we'll have to find a suicidal sea captain, then." Ivy said.

Xianghua laughed. "You're determined, aren't you? That's good - you need determination to be able to cut your own path in life." As if she had just reminded herself of something, she changed the topic. "About Kilik - where is he?"

"The last we saw him, he had finally completed his training, and had set out on a journey to find you."

Xianghua blushed a little. "...I see." She'd sworn to herself that she would only leave the mansion once she'd proven to herself that she could overcome any obstacle - and her encounter with Tira had proven that she wasn't ready yet. But, Kilik was looking for her...Kilik wanted to find her. Xianghua couldn't allow him to wait any longer. Just as she'd said, determination was all she needed. "...Well, that settles it. Tomorrow morning, I'm leaving to find Kilik!"

"And we'll continue our journey tomorrow, as well."

---

Siegfried and the others returned to the inn, and went to their respective rooms. A short while after Siegfried entered his room, he sensed a presence, and felt as if he was being watched. He walked to the room's only window, opened it, and then leaned against the wall next to the window.

"Come in, Tira."

Tira leapt into the room with the grace of a sparrow. But, from that point onward, she slouched and moved sluggishly. She slumped up against the same wall Siegfried was leaning on, but on the other side of the window. She and Siegfried did not make eye contact.

"...Are you mad at me, Master?"

Siegfried closed his eyes. "...I will not lie. I am disappointed."

The two were silent.

"...Master...it's not like the old days."

"...What do you mean?"

"In the old days, we were...closer. You asked me to serve you more often."

Siegfried realized that Tira was talking about the first weeks they'd spent with each other.

"I really enjoyed serving you. But, then...other people joined us, and...you rarely gave me orders any more."

"Tira, I'm not comfortable ordering someone around. I'd feel cruel if I did such a thing."

Tira turned to face him. "But it's not cruel in my case! I want you to give me orders!'

Siegfried was silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

"...You're right, Tira - when things first started out, it was just about you and I. But, it's not just about us anymore. My journey has become something important. We're on a very important mission. I'm focusing on the mission now. I just don't have time to focus on us anymore - that's not where my attention should belong. I have the duty of protecting the entire world. I don't want this duty, but it's mine. And if I am to redeem myself for killing thousands of men, creating thousands of widows and orphans, then I must focus on this mission. I can't allow myself to be distracted. Tira, I...care about you. But now is not the time for that." He turned to face her. "When Soul Edge is no longer a threat, Tira, then it can be about us again. ...But right now...we just can't afford that."

Tira's eyes were cast down.

"...Tira...if you are unsatisfied with me...with the direction in which things are moving...then you are free to leave."

Tira's head jerked up, and her eyes flew open wide, as if Siegfried had said something incredibly shocking.

"I understand if I am not a satisfying master. I understand if you would rather leave me, and find another master, if what you want cannot be found with me."

Tira turned away. Silence fell once more.

"...I'd be jealous, though." Siegfried whispered.

Tira faced him again.

"...I'd be jealous if you had another man as your master."

Tira said nothing, but slowly approached Siegfried, and wrapped her arms around him.

"...I can be proud of myself, then." Tira said. Her voice did not sound as sorrowful as it had before. Siegfried smiled, and held her.

The two held one another for a while, and then Tira spoke. "About what I did..."

"You just wanted to help."

"...I wanted to be useful...valuable...worth something to you..."

"Don't worry. I understand. The others understand, too."

"...I'll join up with you outside of the city tomorrow. I still don't think it's safe for me to walk around in this city anymore."

"Alright. I'll let the others know."

Tira planted a small peck on her Master's cheek. Her Master smiled, and gave her a longer kiss, on the lips. They smiled at each other briefly, and then Tira left as swiftly as she had come.

But she was not as comforted as one would have thought.

As she perched herself within a tree for the night, uncertainty and insecurities ran through her mind. Although her self-worth had been restored, she now had another problem on her mind.

_Is Siegfried the right Master for me?_

It was the first time since she'd given herself to him that she'd addressed him, even mentally, by his name instead of the title she'd given him - it was the first time she'd had the thought of calling anyone else her master. Although the others had not seen her, Tira had followed them to the mansion. She'd been on the roof while they were in the courtyard, and on the rafters of the mansion while they were inside of it. She'd heard every word they'd said about Nightmare. She'd heard of Nightmare before, of course, but as Nightmare was dead and gone, she had never regarded him as being significant to her. In light of recent events, however, she began to think of him in a different way.

_Master's former self...Nightmare. Would he be a more fitting Master for me? Nightmare lives to kill. He's killed entire villages, towns, even armies, and does so daily. If I were his slave, surely he'd command me to kill nonstop._ Tira's heart leapt at the thought, as she remembered how good it'd felt to finally let her true desires take control after months of self-restraint. Nightmare was evil - so was killing. Tira enjoyed the thought of killing far more than the thought of being a servant who is never called upon to serve - did that mean that she was evil? If she was evil, did she belong in Nightmare's service? Nightmare himself had no free will, didn't he? He was just the will of Soul Edge itself, nothing but a thirst for souls. Tira could think of no more perfect master than pure will itself.

Tira originally thought that Siegfried was the perfect master for her because she saw strong similarities between them - Tira had done nothing but follow orders from birth, and Siegfried was unable to do anything but obey Soul Edge's will when it had possessed him. Tira had a side of light, and a side of darkness - and Siegfried had once been a being of two opposing sides, as well.

But now, it seemed as if Tira had found someone with more similarities to herself than Siegfried. A man who she would enjoy being the slave of even more. And Siegfried himself had even told her that it was acceptable for her to leave his service and enter the service of another.

But, at the same time, Tira almost felt physically ill at the thought of leaving Siegfried. For months now she'd thought of nothing but being loyal to him, and devoted every moment of her life to thinking of ways to please him. He was so important to her that she was practically attached to him. The thought of separating herself from Siegfried was like the thought of tearing off one of her limbs.

Siegfried was the world to her, and she'd pledged her life to him forever. But she was unhappy, and might be more happy with the polar opposite of Siegfried, and Siegfried had told her that it was okay to leave him. Now, she felt even more confused than before. Turmoil churned within her for hours until she finally reached a temporary conclusion.

_I've rarely made any decisions in my entire life - I could never make a decision this important. I'll just continue doing what I've been doing all along. And if something happens in the future to change who my master is...then that's simply what will happen._

Having decided to make no decision, Tira was much more comfortable and happy. Despite the fact that she'd been sitting in the same spot for hours, she was exhausted almost beyond the human limit, and fell asleep within seconds.


	30. Sail Over the Storm

It would be unwise to anger a god. Even the most simple-minded of people know this, yet there are still those who are brave or foolish enough to incite the fury of a deity. Maxi, however, was simply unaware that he desired to kill the servant of a god. Yet, even if he had previously known that the being he wished to strike down was a servant of Ares, his resolve to destroy Astaroth would not have faltered in the least, so great was his thirst for revenge.

During the night that Kilik, Xianghua, and Maxi stormed Ostrheinsburg Castle, Maxi forced his two companions to go on while he stayed behind to confront Astaroth. He avenged the deaths of his friends by putting every ounce of his strength into the destruction of the golem, but at a price - Maxi suffered grave injuries during the battle.

Immediately after Astaroth's defeat, the outraged god of war commanded the earth to swallow up the weakened pirate. Unconscious, Maxi fell into a river that flowed deep underground, and was carried away quietly by its icy currents. Above ground, the only trace of Maxi left behind was his nunchaku.

When Maxi awoke, he found himself resting on a riverbank. His mind was lucid, but he could not feel his extremities. He soon realized that he had suffered devastating injuries that would prevent him from being able to move his limbs freely.

Fortunately, a person from a nearby village rescued Maxi, and took him to the village. With his vast knowledge, strong sense of duty, and easygoing personality, it did not take long for Maxi to be accepted by the villagers. After some time, his strength began to return, but his arms and legs would not heal - it seemed unlikely that he would be able to return to his carefree, nomadic lifestyle.

Nevertheless, Maxi was satisfied with his new life. He had exacted his revenge against the one responsible for his crew's death. Although he was curious about Kilik and Xianghua's fortunes, as long as the peace continued, he believed that they had vanquished the root of the evil. Although he would rather be living his old life of piracy and adventure, he accepted his new life of calmness and peace. "I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life here in this village," he eventually thought to himself.

Four years passed. Then, a rumor reached the village. "An enormous man with a gigantic axe is committing massacre after massacre! Nothing remains in his wake!"

Maxi had a horrible feeling as soon as he heard these words, for he knew whom the rumors spoke of. "It's him. That..._freak_ is still alive. I haven't avenged my crew after all." Maxi's mind could no longer be at peace - he knew that he had not extracted revenge. Once more, he was filled with the will to hunt and kill the golem, but his limbs still refused to move.

As if he had sensed Maxi's desires, an elderly medicine man paid him a visit, offering to treat his injuries using secret arts. He had found a peculiar rare metal fragment, and had learned how to use the item for medical treatment. A dark energy surrounded the fragment, but Maxi could not bear to live with a burden on his shoulders any longer, and implored the man to heal him.

Before he would perform his mysterious treatment, the elder insisted on giving Maxi a warning: "If you wish to gain something of value, then you must part with something of equal value." Maxi could not understand why the man would give him such advice, and chose to undergo the treatment.

Several days later, Maxi left the village.

However, in exchange for the restoration of his limbs to seek revenge, Maxi lost something just as precious as the slain comrades he swore to avenge - his memories of Kilik and Xianghua.

Maxi's pursuit of Astaroth continued as if it had never stopped. "I'm coming for you, you freak!" Maxi would hiss to himself. But, although he had the will to pursue the golem, he did not know if he had the strength. His once-powerful muscles had atrophied after four years of little use, and his physique had become neglected, as well. He decided that before he began his journey, he would train his body to its former condition again. Seeking combatants to spar with, he traveled to an arena. In the arena, he was able to fight a wide variety of warriors and obtain much practice with his weapon of choice, the nunchaku, as well as ask the other fighters if they'd heard anything of Astaroth. There was one other fighter in particular who reminded him much of the golem - a large and muscular warrior who called himself Rock. He had the golem's physique, and even fought in a seemingly identical style, but he never slew his opponents, and seemed to be a kind and gentle man, despite his bear-like appearance. Although Maxi was unsettled by Rock's similarities to Astaroth, he knew that they were not the same person.

As Maxi spent time in the Arena and fought matches, he began to recognize a few familiar faces - the regulars who came to watch the fights, the other combatants, and, in particular, one man.

The man was always clothed entirely in black. He would slip his black-gloved hands between the people before him to slide through the crowd, making no more sound than a feather. He moved people around, squeezed in through tiny spaces, opened up gaps in tight groups, and did it all without a sound, without a soul knowing he'd been there, and with movements that would almost have seemed gentle and soothing. Then he took his place at the closest spot to the dueling stage, but for his amazing inconspicuity, he might have been in the farthest corner. His expression was always as still as undisturbed water, and there was no more smile to his face than there was to a rock. He was the softest, stealthiest man Maxi had ever seen, gliding in when the fights began, and gliding out when they ended.

Maxi himself would have never even taken noticed of this shadow of a man, had it not been for one thing - Maxi could sense a wisp of sinister intention whenever this man moved.

More than once, Maxi caught the man stalking some of the combatants. After a match, as the winner walked away from the ring, he'd trail them, following them as if he was their own shadow, gazing at them as if he was reading a book. After the winner had entered the fighters' quarters or noticed his presence, the man would stop moving, nod to himself, and glide away, sticking so close to the walls he seemed to be sliding across them. Once or twice, Maxi had wondered if the man was actually a shadow that had lost its host.

However, the man was most noticeable when observing Rock. The man's normally smooth movements were characterized by haste and awkwardness when he rushed to see Rock, and a look of fear, hatred, and reverence could clearly be seen in his eyes as he observed the large warrior in and out of combat.

Although Maxi usually paid no heed to the suspicious man, he became more and more curious - who was this man, and why was he stalking the combatants in such a strange way? Deciding not to let the man's nature bother him, Maxi approached the man and casually asked him if he'd heard of Astaroth, just as he had asked many other arena combatants. However, the man's reaction was nothing like Maxi had expected.

The man became straight as a board, his face grew noticeably red, and his expression changed for the first time since Maxi had beheld him. A look of rage now covered his face.

"Failure! Useless! A damn clay puppet!" The man spat. His anger grew, and foul curses streamed from his mouth. Maxi was appalled, not by the man's language, but by his sudden change in personality.

"Failure? What do you mean?" Maxi asked, trying to make sense of the man's behavior.

"So much work to make that stupid golem, and for nothing." The man hissed.

A chill ran down Maxi's body, followed by a cold shock through his mind. "...What are you saying? Did you..._make_ Astaroth?"

"An accomplishment we are no longer proud of. He rebelled against us." The man tilted his head down, and muttered beneath his breath. "Now Kunpaetku sends me seek a better warrior to mold another golem after...but that old fool will never obtain Soul Edge this way..."

"...You made...that thing?" Maxi said through clenched teeth. He slowly began to feel an urge rising within him to kill the man - any being that had taken part in the creation of such a monstrosity deserved to die. But, along with this dark urge, Maxi felt something else he could not describe - a cold, calm emotion, similar to anger, but far beyond it. Maxi's desire to kill the man intensified, becoming irrepressible, and Maxi drew his weapon. A section of the man's black clothing began to glow with a faint red light. Noticing the light, the man reached into his robe, and pulled out a small metal fragment, no different than the one that the elderly medicine man had used to heal Maxi. The man returned his gaze to Maxi, and madness showed in his eyes.

"...You have Soul Edge's influence inside your body? ...Marvelous! What a marvelous specimen! My - " Two dry thuds echoed in place of the end of his sentence.

The fragment of Soul Edge fell from the dead man's hands, and landed noisily on the stone floor. Maxi looked at the red light given off by the fragment, and murmured to himself.

"...I have Soul Edge...inside my body? It's...influence?" It was true that he had felt some sort of impulse to kill, and a resonance from within his body with the fragment the man had held. He felt an uneasy throbbing inside his heart just recalling the sensation. It was a dark, evil emotion, born when he felt the desire to kill the man that had given rise to Astaroth. A terrifying sensation filled him, as if trying to steep his entire self in darkness.

Feeling an unidentifiable sense of dread, he kicked away the fragment that lay on the floor. The fragment slipped through a crack in the floor, and disappeared deep into the earth. A faint, regretful echo could be heard throughout the arena.

Cold sweat poured from his entire body, and he began shuddering in fear. He felt like he was about to let go of his own will. A certain figure flashed through his mind. He knew someone who had lost himself, and then turned to darkness after he lost everything. Maxi remembered the suffering figure of the man after the man had returned to his senses. But now Maxi couldn't remember who it was.

It wasn't someone from his family, but it was definitely someone important to him...but that part of memory seemed to simply be missing. It was a frustrating feeling. No matter how hard he tried to remember, it was just beyond reach. Had he forgotten something very important? He felt a tinge of uneasiness. The more he fretted over his inability to recall the past, the more he became plagued with uncertainty and doubt. The only things that were certain to him were his remorse for his lost crew, and his desire to avenge them. Thinking that maybe all he needed to wash away his doubts was to return to the port where his comrades had died, to stand where their blood had been spilt in order to remind himself of his mission, he departed for a port town in India.

A port town is a place where the pathways of land and sea meet. It is also a crossroad where people both meet and part ways, as well. It was here that Maxi and Kilik met four years ago, where Maxi's crew had been wiped out in a sudden attack by a strange horde monsters. This place could also be called the starting point on his pathway to revenge.

And soon, it may also be called the ending point. Just as land and sea meet here, Maxi is about to meet two women here that will come bearing news that will change everything for him.

---

Siegfried and his companions had underestimated the reluctance of a captain to sail a boat into the seas of a country at war.

Japan was in the middle of what would later be known as the Sengoku Jidai, or "Warring States Period" - a time of social upheaval, political intrigue, and nearly constant military conflict that had been lasting for roughly a century, and would not be ending for several more decades. During this period, two famous Japanese navies, the Murakami Navy and the Kuki Navy, were fighting fiercely in a series of sea battles in around Japan. During this time, to enter Japanese waters was suicide. Japan may have been isolated from the rest of Asia, but sea captains stay well aware of the oceanic affairs of other countries.

With Japan in its current state of constant military conflict, interest in traveling to the island nation was very low, and no captain or crew would risk their lives and their ship sailing into a battleground - not when they could make adequate money ferrying people to and from places that weren't at war.

And so, the group was encountering difficulty in finding passage to Japan.

They simply began to travel down Asia's eastern coast, visiting ports and seeking the bravest captains and crews they could find - but their luck never improved. There was a large system of roads across eastern Asia, which allowed the group to traverse quickly. However, as they continued to meet with only disappointment, they began to consider forgetting about going to Japan.

Having mostly given up on obtaining passage to the island country, they ended up in a port town in India, deciding that it was a good hub from which to choose their next destination. However, before they completely gave up hope on Japan, they decided to check the town's ports, just in case there was even one captain here willing to give them passage.

The town was a popular stop in India, and had an especially large port, with dozens of docked ships. To quicken their search, they split up into three groups - Siegfried and Tira to one side, Ivy to the middle, and the Alexandra sisters to the other side.

---

When Sophitia and Cassandra reunited in Siegfried's company, there was initially awkwardness between the two of them. Cassandra had walked in on her sister during coitus with a man she was not married to, and Sophitia was aware that her sister was attracted to the man she had committed adultery with.

For some people, these conditions might have served to shatter relationships - but the awkward air between Sophitia and Cassandra cleared up quickly. They had lived together for too many years and were far too close to let recent events ruin the ties between them, especially when they understood one another's feelings so well.

And so it was not with discomfort and unease, but with friendly conversation and laugher that the two sisters walked through the port. In the past, there had been tension between the members of Siegfried's group when they'd put considerable effort into something that didn't seem to have much chance of working out. They were doing the same now, as well, but the general atmosphere of the group was more lighthearted, because they had decided to focus more on the information and experiences they gained along the way.

The two sisters scanned the port for signs of crews without work and eager to do a job, but the port showed no signs of inactivity at all. Everyone in sight was rushing to and fro, hard at work on their individual errands. Sophitia and Cassandra stopped ask a few of the more lax men if they were looking for work, but they had only slowed to catch their breath, and weren't going to be free anytime soon. They would have entered pubs and asked around for captains, but, in the past, when the two sisters had taken up that task, they'd been forced to spend more time fending off drunken, horny men than making any sort of progress.

Near the end of the side of the port that they'd been assigned to search, there were very few ships or men about. It was perhaps for this reason that one man standing on a dock caught their eye. However, had he been in the center of a crowd of people, he still would have been eye-catching. He was tall and fit, and wore white clothing that contrasted sharply with his jet-black hair. He wore light armor on his legs and shoulders, and carried a pair of nunchaku at his hips - he was clearly a warrior. His shirt was open, exposing a muscular chest and abdomen, and he was handsome, as well. Sophitia, already feeling guilty about other things, tried to ignore the man's body, while Cassandra, sorrowfully a bachelorette, enjoyed the sight.

Yet, even without his flashy appearance and good looks, there was still something striking about this man that made him stand out. He stood legs apart, arms crossed, facing the ocean, and his eyes were closed, as if taking in his surroundings without sight. But, it was not his stoic stance that was striking - it was the aura that surrounded him; he seemed to be one with the sea. The waves of the sea lapped against the dock he stood upon, as the sea breeze blew around him, swaying his clothing, so although he stood still, he seemed to be moving and flowing along with the waters he stood above. He appeared to be so natural standing where he was, near the ocean. He seemed like a man who truly did belong at sea. And, yet, there was something almost mournful about the man. Nothing obvious revealed it, but Sophitia and Cassandra had a distinct feeling that the man was regretful, and stricken with grief.

Despite that, after only a few moments of observing him, Sophitia and Cassandra knew they'd found the sea captain they'd been looking for.

The two sisters began to approach the man. As they came near, the man turned his head to the side ever so slightly, and then faced forward again. Perhaps he merely started to turn his head out of reflex, or perhaps the gesture was meant to warn potential assassins that he knew of their presence.

When they came close enough, Sophitia began to speak to the man. The sisters had decided that Sophitia should be the one to do the talking, since Cassandra was not as conversationally skilled.

"Pardon us, sir, but we wish to ask a few questions of you, should we have your permission." Sophitia said, speaking as formally as she could, while keeping the tone of her voice gentle.

The man turned halfway towards Sophitia and Cassandra. His eyes rolled from one sister to the other, and he seemed generally disinterested in them - or perhaps his dispassionate look was a result of the matter that was causing him to seem so stricken with grief.

"Go ahead." He said.

"May we ask your name?"

"...You don't have to ask me permission to ask me things." The man said, with just a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm Maxi."

"Maxi, are you a captain, or do you belong to a crew?" Sophitia asked. She adjusted her syntax and tone of voice in a way she hoped would make the aloof man more comfortable.

Despite that, a small amount of pain could be seen on Maxi's face as he answered. "No. Not anymore."

"Have you retired from seafaring?"

"Retired? Well, I wouldn't put it that way. I haven't done much sailing in the past few years because..." His gaze returned to the sea again. "...I lost my crew."

"Lost them? How?"

In a heartbeat, Maxi swiveled on his feet to face the women. "They were killed!" He barked, nearly shouting. His posture and facial expression had gone from indifferent to infuriated. At first, Sophitia was afraid that she had offended the man merely by asking him a question. However, she realized that he was not mad at her, but was angry as a result of the pain of losing his crew.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that." Sophitia said, trying not to flinch too visibly after the man's outburst. "...Because you lost your crew, do you no longer sail the sea?"

Anger flashed in Maxi's eyes. Sophitia could see that, this time, she _did_ offend the man, because she had demonstrated that she was more concerned about whether or not Maxi still sailed than the deaths of his crewmembers. Although, for a few moments, it seemed as if Maxi was almost angry enough to attack her, he calmed down. "...I haven't really had many reasons to sail in recent years." He stated simply.

"...What would you say to someone who wanted you to ferry them to an island?"

Maxi turned away again. "I'd tell them to go find someone else."

"...That's not an option for us." Sophitia said, being sure to make her tone sound more remorseful than argumentative.

"Oh, and why's that?" Maxi asked. Sophitia couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested, or only pretending to be.

"Well, from our experience, we've learned that there are very few - if any - sea captains willing to ferry a group of people to an island nation that is in the middle of a civil war."

"...Japan?" From the tone of his voice, he seemed to be somewhat interested now. "That is my homeland."

"...It is?" Sophitia asked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. She had tried to hide her excitement, but his remark encouraged her - if the man's birthplace was Japan, he might be more willing to go there than the captains who had turned them down.

"Yes. I was born in Shuri, in the Ryuku Kingdom." Maxi said. The two women did not respond, and he figured they had little knowledge of Japan. "...Why do you want to go to Japan?"

"We seek the most potent purification arts in the world. Such arts are more powerful the further East one goes."

"...Why do you need powerful purification arts?"

"...The reason is somewhat private." Sophitia said.

Maxi chuckled to himself, but still seemed indifferent, rather than amused. "It's better that you don't tell me. I can't afford to get involved with other people's business. Sorry to lead you on and then disappoint you, but I've got very important business of my own to attend to, and I can't spend time ferrying people to and fro."

"...Important business, huh?" Cassandra asked. It was the first time she'd spoken to Maxi, so he paid extra attention to her. Sophitia paid extra attention, as well, if only because she was afraid of what her bold and sometimes childish sister might say. "We've got important business, as well, and I'm sure it's way more important than yours."

Cassandra was, of course, referring to the business of preventing Soul Edge from being unleashed upon the world again, which would, by default, be far more important than most other business. However, Maxi could fathom nothing more important than avenging his fallen comrades, and was more than offended that this impudent girl had the audacity to suggest that her petty sight-seeing trip to Japan was more important.

Maxi's eyes flashed with anger again, this time far more than before. He turned to face Cassandra, and with his arms still crossed, gripped one of his nunchaku with a fist that almost trembled from his anger. He spoke slowly and calmly, but every syllable dripped with hatred. "...That was unwise. If I were you, I would go back to keeping my mouth shut."

Cassandra was young, and, like all young people, her first prerogative was to challenge an adult she believed to be ignorant. But, despite her slightly presumptuous personality and her mouth's reputation of getting her into trouble, she decided to stay silent this time, a miracle that Sophitia thanked Hephaestus for.

"...It appears that I've given you false hope. I made you hopeful that you'd get a ride to Japan, and disappointed you. The least I can do is tell you why." Maxi's words were apologetic, but his tone of voice was so hateful, he might have been spitting acid at the girls. He obviously did not feel guilty for giving them 'false hope', and his motive was to prove Cassandra wrong.

"A few years ago, I arrived at this very spot that you and I stand to behold the sight of my entire crew being massacred by a horde of grotesque monsters. Those men were my sworn brothers - I saw their bodies being snapped in half, their limbs being torn apart, their thumbs cut off as trophies, their eyes plucked out merely for the sadistic pleasure of those beasts - I even saw some of them being eaten alive.

"We were not related by blood or law, but we were closer than most families are. All that we had was each other. And, in just one foggy afternoon, I lost all of them. My crew - my friends - my family.

"I don't even know why those beasts attacked. I only know who was leading them. A monstrous brute, many times larger and more evil than the fiends it directed. It was a giant - a golem. And it destroyed my crew. After that day, my life as I knew it was ruined. I can never go back to the way things were before. And I can never be at ease, as long as I know that monster walks the Earth, unpunished."

Maxi was almost talking to himself now. "I will hunt him. I will find him. I will slay him. I will give him all that he deserves, and more. I will punish him, and then send him to hell…that abomination named Astaroth."

"...Astaroth?" The echo came from the lips of the two sisters. They turned to look at one another, and their eyes slowly widened.

"Sis," Cassandra whispered, "Siegfried called that golem thing 'Astaroth', didn't he?"

"...What golem? What are you talking about? Do you two know something about Astaroth?" Maxi asked.

"...Well, I know that, right now, his corpse is rotting in the depths of a destroyed temple." Cassandra said.

Maxi seemed stunned, and then in disbelief. "...I doubt that Astaroth is dead. I doubt that you have seen him. You must be mistaken."

"We didn't just see him - we fought him." Cassandra said. "7 feet tall, axe just as big, red skin, glowing markings on his forehead and chest? If that's the same Astaroth as you're talking about, we fought him."

"You fought him?" Maxi asked, incredulously. "...And survived? How?"

"We didn't just fight him, we killed him." Cassandra announced.

The man fell silent. His posture seemed to droop, but his muscles tensed up. His expression was unreadable - a frightening mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disappointment. He was beginning to tremble.

"...Astaroth is dead?"

"Yes!" Cassandra affirmed.

"...You killed him?"

"That is correct." Sophitia said with a nod.

Maxi began to breathe faster and deeper, almost panting.

"We know you're grateful, but you don't have to thank us. We were just defending oursel-"

"THANK YOU?" Maxi roared. "Why would I THANK YOU? You've STOLEN IT!"

"What?" Sophitia asked, bewildered.

"You stole it from me! You stole my revenge! You stole my justice! Now I can't avenge my brothers! Now I can't avenge Kyam! Now I can't rest knowing that I took retribution! It's because of you - you took it from me, YOU TOOK IT!"

The man's face was red, and he was straining so much as he screamed that his veins were visible. Sophitia and Cassandra subconsciously took a few steps back.

"Calm down, Maxi." Sophitia said. "We haven't stolen or taken anything from you."

"You're wrong, you whore!" Maxi screamed. "I was supposed to be the one to kill Astaroth! ME! There's no point to his death if it wasn't me who killed him! Their deaths won't be avenged if it wasn't me who killed him! You BITCHES!"

"What did you want us to do, just stand there and let him kill us?" Cassandra rebutted.

Maxi gripped his nunchaku and lashed it forward, causing the girls to leap back. "I told you to keep your mouth SHUT!"

Maxi slowly began to feel an urge rising within him.

A cold, calm emotion, similar to anger, but far beyond it.

A terrifying sensation filled him, as if his entire self was becoming steeped in darkness.

Cold sweat poured from his entire body as he began to shudder in fear.

He felt his will slipping away.

No longer in control of himself, he leapt at the two women, and attacked.

Maxi first swung his nunchaku in vertical and horizontal swipes at Sophitia, who slid back to avoid the blows. Cassandra unsheathed her sword and moved forward to defend her sister, but Maxi spun around and swung his weapon at her, nearly slamming the thick wooden stick into her head. He walked towards her, constantly swinging his weapon at her. She raised her sword to defend herself, but one of Maxi's blows knocked her sword out of her hands. Cassandra rolled out of the way of Maxi's next swing, and dived for her weapon. As she did, Maxi turned back towards the other sister.

Sophitia marveled at Maxi's weapon. At that point in history, the nunchaku was a rare weapon that had not been in popular usage - the only weapon similar was a flail. Sophitia herself had used agricultural flails to thresh grain for her father's bakery, but had never considered a flail being used as a weapon. She had no idea how to fight against two sticks connected by a chain. She had never seen a weapon like that before. No, wait - she had seen another chain-like weapon. But she couldn't remember what it was...

Sophitia drew her sword and shield, but only stepped backwards, keeping her distance and studying the way Maxi used the weapon before attempting to attack or parry a blow. She noticed that Maxi kept the nunchaku constantly in motion before himself - this would make use of the weapon tiring, but if what Sophitia could see from Maxi's open shirt was any indication, he was more than fit enough to use the nunchaku for an extended amount of time.

Maxi drew closer and swung the nunchaku at her, and Sophitia raised her shield to defend herself. The weapon struck her shield with much more force than she thought it was capable of, and she almost fell back. She could instantly see the benefits of using the weapon - the stick swinging through the air gained incredible momentum, which would cause greater impact than a sword. Maxi continued his assault without pausing for even a moment - the nature of the weapon prevented the user from experiencing much recoil.

Sophitia raised her shield again, this time forcing it towards her opponent's weapon to cancel out the impact. However, she had the wrong idea - the stick merely slid over the curved surface of her shield, and Maxi swung it up into Sophitia's arm. She gasped in pain and fell back, and saw Maxi swing the nunchaku back to deliver a blow to her, but then he suddenly swiveled on his feet to face away from her - Cassandra, weapon in hand again, had come at him from behind.

Thinking that the weapon would provide poor defense, Cassandra stabbed her sword forward at Maxi. Maxi swung his nunchaku downwards at her sword and knocked it off course - although it was little more than a wooden stick, its momentum gave it enough impact to provide an excellent defense.

Maxi needed a lot of space to swing the weapon, easily endangering both sisters even when only one was actively trying to attack him. In this way, Maxi could focus on one sister at a time, and the Alexandras found that, although the fight was two to one, that did not give them an advantage.

Maxi swung his nunchaku in fluid but deadly motion at one girl, then spun around to do the same to the other. As the other girl recovered or stabbed at an opening, Maxi spun around to parry her and knock her back. Neither girl had ever seen a defense that seemed so impenetrable as the one they were faced with now.

The whipping impact of Maxi's swings caused intense pain when he landed blows on the two women, and his lithe movement made it difficult for them to land more than small nicks and cuts on him with their blades.

Maxi displayed a very high level of skill with the weapon, swinging it in front of him to deflect a stab from Sophitia, passing it between his hands, and then behind his back to deflect a slice from Cassandra, before returning it to the first hand again. He attacked in a variety of ways, with swings aimed at both the sisters' upper and lower bodies, and they quickly became exhausted from constantly having to defend and shield themselves from attacks. They rarely had an opportunity to attack during Maxi during his whirlwind of swings, and as they grew too weary to attack, they were eventually doing little more than trying their best to block his attacks with their shields.

Maxi landed a blow on Sophitia that knocked her back into a wooden railing on the dock. Then he turned to Cassandra, and began an assault that was more relentless than before, now that there was no other sister to interfere. Cassandra had now gotten the hang of evading and blocking his attacks, but was without the strength to do so any longer. Her sword was knocked from her hand once again, and Maxi kicked his foot out, slamming it into her stomach and knocking her into the railing on that side of the dock. He stood before her, and raised his nunchaku to land a fatal blow to her head.

There was a strange sound from behind - metallic, almost machine-like.

Too consumed with anger to think of anything but delivering this final blow, he swung the nunchaku down at Cassandra, but as he did, something silver lashed forward, wrapped around the nunchaku, and yanked it back. Maxi's hand and arm jerked backwards, but he did not relinquish his grip on the weapon. However, the momentum caused his body to turn back, and he found himself facing a woman with platinum hair.

"Nice weapon." Ivy said.

Maxi jerked the nunchaku out of the grip of Ivy's snake sword, and leapt back. For a moment, he studied her weapon. A sword designed to split apart into a bladed chain whip - like an elaborate nunchaku. But he was filled with too much rage to return her compliment.

"Stay out of this, bitch!" He growled. "This is none of your business!"

"These women are my traveling companions, and so it is my business."

"I said STAY OUT OF THIS!" Maxi roared.

Ivy looked at Sophitia. "What did you do to make him so upset?"

"He was obsessed with killing Astaroth. He wants to kill us because we 'stole' Astaroth's death from him."

Ivy's eyebrows adjusted to convey her opinion. "That's stupid." She scoffed.

"SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" With another angry bellow, Maxi dashed forward and swung his weapon at Ivy. Without adjusting her posture, Ivy flicked her wrist, and her snake sword whipped up and wrapped around Maxi's nunchaku once more.

"I know a lot about chain weapons, for one thing." Ivy said with a haughty grin.

Ivy's interruption, arrogance, and possible superiority drove Maxi's fury to much higher levels. He began an assault on her, only to have her flexible sword knock his blows aside or entangle his weapon. Sophitia and Cassandra were enraptured by the amazing battle of chain whips, but soon decided that they should help Ivy. They rose to their feet and took up their weapons, but soon saw that there would be no need for their assistance.

Ivy wrapped her snake sword around Maxi's nunchaku again, and then pulled hard, yanking Maxi toward her. Then she grabbed his nunchaku with her free hand, unraveled her snake sword from his weapon, and then whipped the flat sides of the blades around Maxi's neck.

Then she pulled hard on the nunchaku, forcing Maxi to the ground, and with one hand still holding his nunchaku, she put one foot on his free hand, and the other on his chest.

"I think somebody needs to calm down." She said evenly.

Maxi spat several strings of obscene words at her.

"Hmm. No combinations I haven't heard before. How uncreative."

Ivy yanked Maxi upright, jerked the nunchaku out of his hands, and swung it at his jaw. Maxi's head twisted to the right sharply, and then he collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Sophitia ran to Ivy's side. "Did you...?"

"No, I didn't kill him, astonishingly. I surprise myself sometimes. I suppose I've gotten soft. Why, want to finish him off now?"

"No - he has experience sailing, and his homeland is Japan."

"...Are you suggesting that we ask this man to sail us to Japan? After he tried to kill you?"

"He tried to kill us, but he might be the only way we'll get to Japan."

Ivy sighed. "Putting our lives into the hands of a bloodthirsty, screaming maniac doesn't seem too bright to me, but what do I know?"

"...I don't think he was in control of himself." Sophitia whispered.

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I sensed something within him. A change. A dark energy. Even now, you can sense it coming from him, if you concentrate. He behaved like a human, and then...he behaved like an animal. I don't think he was responsible for what he did - I think he's been possessed by something evil, or under its influence, at least."

Ivy seemed skeptical at first, but she did feel a dark energy emanating from the man.

"Sounds like this is a problem that won't go away after some beauty sleep." Ivy said. "Who's to say that he'll be able to think and act rationally enough to look past his silly grudge and sail us to Japan?"

"I suppose we'll only know when he wakes up." Sophitia sighed. "...Where are Siegfried and Tira?"

"Assuming they heard the same rumors about a fight going on that I did, they're on their way here right now." Ivy said.

The women did not have to wait much longer for Siegfried and Tira to arrive. They explained who the unconscious man was, and how their encounter with him had turned out.

"Now that you've heard the story, Siegfried, what do you think we should do?" Ivy asked.

Siegfried closed his eyes in thought for a few moments, and then spoke. "I believe that we should ask him for his assistance."

"Siegfried." Ivy said tersely, obviously dissatisfied with Siegfried's choice.

"One is not an evil person simply because they have been possessed by evil." Siegfried said. People had discriminated against him for that very reason, and this apparently gave him some sympathy for Maxi. "I will attempt to reason with him. If he will not cooperate, we will part ways, and that will be our last attempt to reach Japan for the time being. I'll speak to him alone - I don't think he will want you three to be present. If I reveal who I am, he may feel that he can relate to me. I may even be able to give him further insight on his situation."

The women understood. They left the two men with one another on the dock, and stayed out of sight.

Maxi slowly awoke, and beheld Siegfried kneeling beside him. "Who are you?"

"My name is Siegfried."

Maxi sat up. "Three women - did you see three women leaving this area?"

"Those women, and one other, are companions of mine." Siegfried said. "I understand that you are gravely furious at them."

Maxi grabbed Siegfried by the collar. "Where are they? Tell me!"

Siegfried did not show a reaction. "The only reason you are so full of rage for them is because a dark force inhabits your body and strengthens dark desires, such as bloodlust. If you were not possessed by this force, you would realize that it is not reasonable to be so furious at these women."

Maxi stared at Siegfried for a few moments, and then looked away. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and did not look unlike a guilty child who knows that he has behaved badly.

"As you know," Siegfried continued, "we seek passage to Japan for purification arts. If you sail to Japan, you may find a way to purify yourself of the evil energy that controls you. If you feel guilt or regret for your actions today, you would gladly be forgiven if you assisted us by giving us passage to Japan."

Maxi was silent for a while longer, and then replied. "Tell me where the women are."

Siegfried lowered his head, fearing defeat. "Do you still wish to harm them?"

"No." Said Maxi, hanging his head even lower. "I'm going to apologize."

---

Within the day, the six had pooled what money they had to purchase a ship of adequate size to make the trip to Japan. The presence of the two Alexandra sisters made Maxi noticeably uncomfortable. He was polite to them, and although it was quite evident that he still despised the fact that they had stolen his revenge from him, the three were able to co-exist with one another. Ivy was too apathetic to hold grudges, and Maxi forgot about her arrogance and his defeat at her hands as soon as she let him examine her snake sword. During the trip, Maxi was able to bond a bit with Siegfried over their common peril. Maxi found Tira to be quite unfathomable, but had no problems with her. The trip was long, but not boring, as their 'captain' was quite interested in hearing their tales, as well as sharing tales of his own. Sophitia and Cassandra generally stayed on the opposite side of the boat as Maxi was on, if only to avoid accidentally rousing the dark force within him.

With a hearty cry of "Land ho!" from Maxi, their trip began to draw to a close. They developed a much better understanding of the reluctance of so many to travel to Japan once they saw the remains of dozens of destroyed ships littering the water, and smelled the stench of hundreds of bloated corpses floating among the waves. That sight alone was more than enough of a clue that they had entered a nation at war, and they prepared to encounter many dangers.

Sadly, they would not have Maxi as their ally during this time. After they docked their ship at a small port filled with many curious onlookers, Maxi revealed that he thought it would be best to part ways. He still wasn't sure of himself or who he was without his main drive in life, and wanted to find himself on his own, instead of drift along with others on their own quest. " 'You must cut your own path in life.' ...That's what somebody once told me. Can't remember who it was, though." Maxi said.

The group was sad to see their new friend leave, but they understood his reasons. As he had respected their quest, they would respect his, and they bid one another good luck before they went their separate ways.

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**A/N:** Today, October 31st, 2006, is the anniversary of I Am Your Slave. One year, 30 chapters, 235 reviews, 53,000 hits, and 116,000 words later, I'm content with the story, for the most part. I do have one regret - after chapter 27, I took a two-month break from writing, and readership dropped from around 1,100 views per chapter to around 500 views per chapter. It's discouraging to know that so many readers have left, and that over half of the reader base may have left the story forever, but no matter how many (or few) people are reading, I definitely won't stop writing this story until it's done (and even after the story is done, I have a few surprised in mind).

I'd really like to give a big thank-you to all the readers who are still reading the story. Thank you so much for sticking around, and special thanks to the readers who leave such kind and encouraging reviews. And last, thanks for helping me get 235 reviews and over 53,000 views! I hope you keep reviewing, because each review really means a lot to me.

Here's to another year of IAYS! I hope I don't disappoint you!


	31. The Many Weapons of Sin

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****A/N:** This chapter is different from the rest in one tiny regard – it wasn't written by me. Henry, a fan of the story, has honored me by writing an IAYS fanfic. That's right, a fanfiction of fanfiction (or a 'ficlet', as we've been calling it). He is quite a good author, and I am flattered that he's written up a side-story for IAYS. I find it to be of very good quality, and it doesn't interfere with the main story, so I'm accepting it into the fic. Ideally, there would be three ficlet chapters like this one, with a few regular chapters in-between. I hope you enjoy Henry's story!

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He had returned to the Clock Tower only once more, after his sojourn on the banks of the Atlantic Ocean. Though he could not travel instantaneously, he melded within shadows themselves; it was just another compensation for distorting the natural order. The pain of stretching oneself through empty gaps was nothing in contrast to the pain death brought him, and he endured it without the slightest flinch.

Through his observations of Siegfried and his companions, Zasalamel had quickly realized that sending individual minions to combat them was ineffective. Though their inner circle had its conflicts, they always put differences aside long enough to thwart him. Were he not so irritated by his wasted efforts, he'd have been quite amused at the struggle. It had been centuries since he'd been involved in such a prominent conflict, or bothered to exercise much of his power at all.

So there was the Clock Tower, and he waited within it, thinking deeply. He needed a new method to deal with Siegfried and obtain the sword, but he was sorely lacking in the necessary inspiration to concoct a new scheme. Isabella, Astaroth and Cervantes had failed him, and he knew of few others with connection to the sword.

He needed someone who could strike terror into their hearts. He needed someone to inspire doubt and break apart their emotions...

"A pathetic soul who wishes to find peace in death…how laughable."

Zasalamel turned at once, and watched..._himself_ suddenly land upon the scaffold, smirking. "Yes, that's right; that's what it takes."

Zasalamel raised an eyebrow, but did not have time for a remark. This creature that appeared before him lanced forth with a scythe just like his own, twirling it in his left hand and aiming for Zasalamel's head.

Zasalamel himself drew back, leaping aside as the creature's scythe drew along the wooden platform…but did not cut. Zasalamel took note of this immediately, and placed the Kafziel between both hands.

"...Very well." he began. "I shall ask you only once. What are you?"

The creature smiled, his single golden eye glinting in the fragmented light. "Intimidation."

Zasalamel swung the Kafziel in a wide arc, but his doppelganger sank into the wood, moving faster than a human arm could hope to match. Zasalamel glanced around, his fingers twitching ever so slightly.

"Fear," the voice had come from above him, as the creature in his form sank back down from the tower roof, his cloaked head stretching out…elongated beyond the possibility of comfort. Zasalamel swung again, but his doppelganger shot back up into the roof, only to rise again from the platform's wooden floor.

"Doubt," the doppelganger continued, twisting around in all directions, arms and legs encircling the platform and surrounding Zasalamel.

"I'm not afraid of you," Zasalamel assured, monitoring every movement. His fingers continued to twitch as they wandered about the ivory handle.

The doppelganger reformed into the image of Zasalamel. "You can never know peace...your soul sinks into Hell with each death. Your greed and your ambitions have already sealed your fate."

"I agree," Zasalamel nodded. "I do not need you to remind me." Zasalamel stepped forward, approaching his mirror image. "My conclusion is to continue this meaningless existence. There is only one possible fate in store for me.

"...And yet," Zasalamel walked forward, even as his other self raised an identical scythe. "For every one fate, there are thousands of ways to defy it...and I will utilize every one of them."

The doppelganger shot the scythe to Zasalamel's neck. It rested there, pressed against his white hood. The doppelganger grinned, and allowed the weapon to pass harmlessly through Zasalamel's body.

"You will waver." The doppelganger told him. "Defiance is not success. Even the immortal are bound by the weakness of doubt and fear."

Zasalamel did not bother to speak and stepped straight through the apparition, turning his back to it.

"You can not escape fate," the doppelganger promised, "and this time, it's seeking you out."

Zasalamel did not turn. He continued walking away.

He heard the creature laugh in his own voice. "Your sins will find you…"

Zasalamel did not return to the Clock Tower. The sound of the machines had been soothing, but now he heard only the laughter.

Laughter coming from his own mouth.

**Hunters of the Immortal**

Zasalamel traveled more quickly than any normal human could ever hope to, and this time he had a very specific purpose in mind as he approached his destination, traveling miles instantaneously.

The Carpathian Mountains served as a natural border between many countries, but encircled a large portion of Romania, and they were used frequently by the national military. A gathering of forces today had drawn Zasalamel there, as he emerged before a single battalion, consisting of approximately 400 men, gathering up their armor and weaponry.

The size seemed consistent. He stepped forth, Kafziel at his side.

"Who's that?" demanded one of the men.

"What's a moor doing out here?"

Zasalamel smiled as he stepped towards the men, more of them stepping out from their tents to confront him. In the cool night, Zasalamel stood out quite a bit in his white robe. His attire became even more noticeable when splattered with the blood of the first foot soldier he killed.

They reacted violently, and charged at him en masse. Zasalamel's golden sphere of an eye glinted in the moonlight as three more were cut down by the spinning of his scythe. He leapt back as two more approached, slamming his scythe into one of their heads in mid motion.

In minutes he laid waste to their battalion. More than 370 were dead, and those that remained alive were barely able to move. He gathered them all together, placing the survivors in a sort of pile, twisting and turning his left arm to call upon his magic.

"Do you wish now to destroy me?" Zasalamel asked, barely audible amongst the moans of the dying.

"Bastard!" the nearest man spat, combining saliva with the blood in his mouth.

"What would you do if I gave you the strength to destroy me?" Zasalamel asked.

"I would kill you!"

Zasalamel grinned. "I see. If you would agree to turn that power elsewhere first...I would gladly give you a chance to take your revenge on me, when the time is right." He told the other survivors. Those still capable of speech agreed to his terms: all wanted the power to kill him and gain revenge upon him.

His plan was set into motion. Zasalamel extended his left hand once more, casting a simple spell, as the souls of the dead began to wander from their bodies, energy forming in his palm as each soul was harvested and the energy contained within was put to his use. Zasalamel wasted no time in sending that energy into the twenty-four survivors, and each body was revived, able to rise and continue battle.

However, there was far more to the spell he'd cast than simple reanimation.

Each man's physical wounds remained, and blood still poured from their bodies and stained their black armor, but they no longer cared. The scent of blood inebriated them, as they were overcome by the maddening desire to kill and destroy.

Zasalamel used his magic to adorn each with helmets to conceal their maddening visages, and equipped each with the axes and lances of their former comrades - all long range weapons to put them on par with Siegfried's considerable reach.

"Destroy Siegfried, and everyone traveling with him," Zasalamel instructed. "Kill as much as you wish...but you can not have my life until I have his."

The berserkers marched forth in fast pace, unbound by human fatigue or even the requirements of their own organs. They were driven by the energy of the souls now forced into their flesh, and sought to consume more, and spill blood throughout the land. They easily destroyed military units in their path and headed East, to where Siegfried had gone.

Zasalamel himself remained in the mountains for a time, looking out upon the castle where the army had been heading. He considered exploring it, but decided to move on...

"Quantity over quality, hmm? I understand that notion very well."

Zasalamel turned, expecting to see that irritating doppelganger mocking him, only to find a short, old man perched on a rock, dressed in a green vest and large green pants, face mostly obscured by a white beard.

"Who are you?" Zasalamel asked.

The old man smiled, lifting himself from the rock, but keeping his head downcast so Zasalamel couldn't make out his face. "Avarice. Recklessness. Foolishness. Insatiability."

"I begin to grow weary of obscure self-introductions." Zasalamel noted. "Tell me your name."

The old man craned his head up, his smile growing ever madder as it stretched to either corner of his face, revealing a few old, yellowed teeth. "A sin is given his name by the man who invokes him. You already know who I am. All you have to do is announce it."

Zasalamel remained stoic, waiting for the old man's reactions.

"Oh, very well." The old man consented. "I never could resist indulging myself...I am Greed, and I have been drawn to you, Zasalamel."

"Leave me." Zasalamel instructed. "I have no interest in your ambitions."

"...Funny you should mention 'ambitions'," Greed noted. "That's another thing we need to talk about. ...It's a funny word, really..."

"I do not care." Zasalamel replied. "Leave me."

"The word has been attributed to another concept." Greed continued. "And to you...and to me...and to a sword..."

Dismissing the babbling, Zasalamel turned to depart once again, only to watch a large broadsword suddenly rise up from the ground, its hilt grasped by a skeletal hand, slowly rising from the ground along with it.

"The sword was cast aside by its owner." Greed continued. "The weapon was used by an emperor some decades ago, as it was his birthright, and the symbol of his royal heritage. His empire of Grandall was overthrown by a mere cadet, and that cadet had enough respect for him to bury him with that weapon."

The skeleton at last rose up, weakly clutching the large sword.

"His name was Strife Alstar." Greed explained. "And I've brought him back to see if you can overcome ambition itself..."

The dirt on the ground moved up, onto the skeleton, transforming itself into the shape of muscle, and then skin, and then hair, and clothing...until a powerfully-built man grasped the sword, swinging it effortlessly upon his shoulder and brushing his long, dark blonde hair. His skin appeared pale and sickly, his eyes were unfocused, and his mouth had no tongue to speak with, but he projected a great deal of energy, and managed to crack quite an arrogant smirk.

"If you can not defeat ambition, you will be overcome by it." Greed promised. "Your dream will be denied over and over again...every time you are born again, I shall return to kill you." With that, Greed was gone, vanishing into shadow as easily as Zasalamel did.

Zasalamel, meanwhile, readied his scythe as the reanimated form of Strife Alstar launched himself forth to attack.

Zasalamel drew back, allowing this reanimated Strife to strike at the ground with his broadsword. Zasalamel moved back in, and attempted to strike with the Kafziel, only for Strife to raise his massive weapon up. Zasalamel parried the attack, but was forced back by Strife's strength, astonished that a glorified revenant could deter him so much.

Opting to mix his strategy a bit, Zasalamel crouched and leapt through the air, attempting to cut Strife as he somersaulted over, but Zasalamel's attack was easily deflected by the Ambition sword, and Zasalamel was forced to the ground by the weapon's weight.

He rolled back to avoid being pinned, and grasped Strife by his collar and throwing him to the ground, before spinning around the Kafziel and slamming it into the deceased man's chest, but Strife threw him off with no sign of harm.

Zasalamel drew further and further back, drawing his magical powers back into his hand. Though powerful, the man was still little more than a mobile corpse, and so Zasalamel would rip his body to shreds...as Strife drew nearer, Zasalamel moved aside and forced Strife to his knees, sliding the Kafziel beneath Strife's neck before he leapt onto his back, forcing Strife's neck down upon the blade. Strife's head was completely severed, and rolled away before dissipating back into dirt and dust.

Zasalamel stepped away, only for the headless body to lift itself back up, hoisting up the Ambition with both hands. Zasalamel quickly rolled to his right in able to avoid being cut in half, as the force of the weapon split through the ground, upsetting a few of the lingering soldiers' bodies.

Thoroughly irritated, Zasalamel focused the magical energies, and clenched his fist. Strife's right arm - still grasping the sword - was crushed as the bones snapped. A slash from his scythe cut the arm completely off, and the heavy sword fell away. A few more slashes and the headless emperor fell, barely distinguishable from the bodies of the Romanian soldiers.

His own arm had been crushed by his tribe, when he tried to take the Soul Edge for himself...with each death he felt the same pain he'd felt then, magnified to new extremes. With each death, his arm not only felt broken and contorted, but _sinking_...as though being pulled down by intense gravity.

Yet, he still reveled in crushing others...

"Impressive." Came the call from Zasalamel's left, as Greed appeared again, stroking his bearded chin with his left hand. "You destroyed ambition, but have fallen into sloth...you rely on your magical prowess rather than improve the power of your scythe."

"I do not need your opinions." Zasalamel stated flatly.

"Oh, but you'll hear them." Greed promised. "I like to grandstand, just as much as you do."

"I do not grandstand." Zasalamel told him. "There is no joy in this existence anymore. I must succeed in my goal."

"I disagree." Greed replied. "There is so much wealth in this world...so much power to claim...so many women to have...so much that is not owned. You made the decision to cast aside mortality, so use it! Stop wasting your time trying to die."

"I won't waste words with a fool." Zasalamel stated. "I will succeed. You won't stop me."

Greed smiled his toothless smile. "Care to test that theory?"

Zasalamel swung out the Kafziel, only for Greed to draw a kunai knife from his sleeve, parrying the scythe's attack effortlessly. Greed went skyward, tossing down a second kunai, aiming for Zasalamel's neck. Zasalamel twirled the Kafziel, deflecting the attack, only for Greed to land and reclaim that kunai, blocking Zasalamel's next attempt to attack him.

"You're strong," Greed commented. "but you cannot overcome Greed." Zasalamel drew back and struck again, and this time Greed parried the attack with a single kunai. "Greed is insatiable."

Zasalamel did not reply, and withdrew again, reaching out with his scythe. Greed parried the attack, only to be struck by Zasalamel's foot into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. As soon as Greed lifted himself, Zasalamel knocked him skyward with a powerful swing of the Kafziel, and then caught the old man's foot with his scythe, forcing him back down to the ground ever faster.

Greed lifted himself once again, apparently unharmed. "Your attacks only further my influence. The more you acknowledge me, the more powerful I'll become..."

Zasalamel struck again, but Greed knocked his attack aside and cut him across the chest with a kunai, leaving a deep gash in his white cloak. Zasalamel swung out again but Greed craned his head back, dropping onto all fours and kicking Zasalamel in the chin, passing seamlessly through his attack.

Zasalamel was soon completely on the defensive, parrying as many attacks as he could, but quickly losing his stamina as Greed struck him again and again. In short order Zasalamel fell to one knee, unable to block anymore.

Greed let out a hearty laugh. "Finally done? Good." Greed crouched down, holding his kunai to the throat of the fallen Zasalamel. "You shouldn't oppose sin, young man...your desire to destroy me only makes it harder for you to reach your goal."

Zasalamel glared up at him. "I will succeed. No matter the cost."

Greed smiled. "I admire that. One who seeks everything must be willing to give everything up."

"All I want is one thing," Zasalamel told him, clenching his left fist. "And I will try as often as I need to."

Greed laughed again. "Ever a fool...it almost pains me to do this..."

"Me too," Zasalamel agreed. Greed raised an eyebrow just as Zasalamel thrust his left arm up into Greed's face, using his power to crush the old man's skull. Distracted, and at last visibly harmed, Zasalamel summoned what strength he had left and cut Greed into three large chunks, panting heavily afterwards.

Greed continued to laugh, even as his head sat on the ground. "Good! You continue to defy me. You sink deeper into your sin..."

"...No." Zasalamel stated flatly. "I'm done with you."

Greed laughed again. "Ever a fool. I am not the only one hunting you." His body parts reformed instantaneously, and Greed hopped back to his feet. "...And you are far from done with me, I'm afraid...but you are not the only one on my hit list."

Zasalamel glared up at the old man. "I'll be ready when you return."

Greed snickered. "I'm sure you will...but what will you do? Kill me again?" With one final laugh, he sank back into the shadows, leaving the wounded Zasalamel behind.

_Others hunting me?_ Zasalamel wondered, as he fell back to his knees. _Who? And for what?_

_It doesn't matter...I will just try to accomplish the plan more quickly._

Zasalamel spent only a few minutes recovering before lifting himself again and walking away from the sight of the carnage, following the path of the berserkers he'd created.

---

Zasalamel's journey led him away from the military buildup in Romania, and took him back towards the banks of the Atlantic Ocean, scouring the beach for any signs of Cervantes or the shards the pirate once had imbedded in his body. He was carrying shards of his own, and though he had no need for them as of yet, powering the sword might prove necessary to attain his death.

He was able to determine the area around him in a matter of seconds, and at once found something amiss. The beach soil had an unusually high energy concentration, and the sand dunes seemed to shift into various forms, as though in a constant state of flux.

Zasalamel passively closed his eye. "You can come out, Charade."

The beach soil broke apart as chunks of deep brown flesh gathered together, clamping onto one another and forming a humanoid shape, albeit one devoid of any facial features or fingers or toes, but rather simple extremities and an expressionless chunk of flesh that constituted the creature's head.

It did not speak - it did not have a personality to form a coherent thought with - and extended tiny bits of its own flesh, transforming it into solid weaponry, forming a pair of curved blades upon its wrists.

"Still without a will of your own." Zasalamel mused. "You were my greatest waste of effort." Zasalamel reared back his scythe. "But I will reward you nonetheless...when the sword is revived at its full strength."

Charade launched itself at Zasalamel. Zasalamel went skyward, somersaulting through the air, and cutting into the creature's brown flesh with his scythe as he passed. Charade showed no signs of harm, as its flesh simply reassembled itself, pulled back together with no visible injury. Charade turned around and attempted to cut Zasalamel apart with its two wave swords, only for Zasalamel to easily parry the cuts and twist around his arm, cutting through Charade's head with his scythe.

"You remain as simple-minded as ever." Zasalamel noted, as Charade reconstructed itself and attempted to attack him again. Zasalamel drew back his right leg, and struck the beast back down to the beach soil with a thunderous kick. Using his free hand to conjure his magic, Zasalamel ripped Charade into several pieces with his crushing spell, completely removing the top half of the creature's body.

Undeterred, Charade hopped back up, moving with only its legs, and began to kick at Zasalamel, only to be parried and struck down with ease. Zasalamel released an audible sigh as he ripped Charade asunder again, only for the creature's fleshy chunks to crawl back together again.

"You cannot be manipulated at all, unless driven by the shards of Soul Edge...fortunately, there is an even larger concentration that I'd be willing to part with." Zasalamel began his trickery, and his task required minimal effort: Charade's simple mind was immediately coerced by the prospect of integrating not only with Soul Edge shards, but the sword itself.

After it absorbed the shards in the body of Sophitia Alexandra, Charade would attempt to bond with the Soul Edge in Siegfried's possession. If the Soul Embrace could sustain that sudden transition, the weapon would be all the more powerful when it finally fell into Zasalamel's capable hands.

Driven now by the instinct to hunt for Siegfried and his party, Charade reconstituted itself and began the long journey east in pursuit of the remaining fragments of Soul Edge, and its own mindless destiny of rejoining the sword.

In altering the beast's mind, Zasalamel gazed upon its previous locations. Charade had traversed most of Britain, including the now abandoned Valentine Mansion, but had journeyed through the Atlantic from Egypt, wherein a temple contained certain details of Soul Edge...details that were unknown to Zasalamel.

Forsaking the prospect of again confronting Siegfried, Zasalamel began his instantaneous journey to the temples in the sand.

---

Somewhere near Ostrheinsburg, in a junkyard left by the castle's long-forgotten inhabitants, a single monstrous beast dug about through discarded armor and weaponry, outfitting himself in a few powerful garbs. Any weapon would do, so long as he added it to his memories...but even the knowledge he'd gained was a poor substitute for Soul Edge itself.

Unaccustomed to any sort of company, the red-skinned creature growled when an old man appeared before him, adorned in a green vest and pants and clown-like shoes. The red-skinned beast drew back his left arm and prepared to do battle.

The old man - Greed - raised his hand in effort to stop the beast. "I am not here to harm you...quite the opposite. There is a man I know who can lead you to what you desire."

Unable to speak after years of isolation and alteration, the red-skinned beast let out another growl, but one that sounded more confused than threatening.

Greed snapped his fingers. A raven descended from the skies, and dropped a single metal shard into the red-skinned creature's right hand. He clenched his teeth behind his gray mask and roared joyously; he had a small piece of the sword he desired.

"His name is Zasalamel." Greed explained. "Follow him, and he will lead you to Soul Edge. Destroy him and the weapon is yours'."

The red-skinned beast pounded on his chest plate and nodded, signifying his assent.

Greed smiled. "Good. I had a feeling I could count on you. Show him no mercy...Necrid."

---

Egypt was little more than sand and limestone temples. Zasalamel had seen it many times in the course of his existence, but had quickly come to detest the location, as the enduring buildings only served as a reminder of his own unending life. However, somewhere within the catacombs resided a record of Soul Edge's presence in this corner of the world, and Zasalamel would certainly devote his time and effort to obtaining that knowledge.

The catacombs themselves were very difficult to traverse through; or at least they would've been for someone of his size...but then, of course, he moved as easily through solid surface as he did through the air, and stepped forth upon an otherwise untouched platform, examining the hieroglyphics.

On the dusty walls before him sat a simple recollection. During the rule of Ramses II, the rather egomaniacal pharaoh had ordered his soldiers to bring back the weapons of soldiers along the fertile crescent, but their efforts had been deterred by a single, all powerful weapon. A pour soul had reached the weapon, and been consumed by its fiery will, and set about destroying those who sought to possess and wield it. Ramses's army was decimated, and the warrior made his way deep into the city.

With no method of defeating him, Ramses ordered that his architects construct a new tomb designed to contain the warrior, and upon its completion, offered his subjects as bait to lure the warrior inside, and sealed him within the tomb for all eternity.

Eternity, as it turned out, was only a few months. The monstrous man vanished from the tomb, leaving behind nothing but a potent dark energy, radiating so much bloodlust it began to affect the soldiers of an empire come to conquer Egypt.

One such soldier stepped towards Zasalamel from out of the darkness, hoisting a large sword up onto one shoulder. Adorned in a red cape and heavy battle gear, he bore a resemblance to the Romanian soldiers...yet this man moved without the will of magic. There was no bloodlust radiating off of him, no energy at all...and he gave no scent and made no sounds but the movement of clunking armor.

"Who are you?" Zasalamel asked.

The armor gave no response.

"An animated suit of armor...but there is no will within it." Zasalamel noted. "A specter."

The red-caped warrior drew back his sword and stabbed forth. Zasalamel parried the thrust with the hilt of his scythe, and struck the creature's armored face with the blade. The specter didn't even recoil, and showed no sign of being harmed.

"I see." Zasalamel noted. "Nothing more than another wandering soul...do you have a name?"

The wandering armor gave no response and continued to step towards Zasalamel, hoisting up the sword again.

Zasalamel snorted. "You have my sympathy; I know the pain of wandering forever." He clenched his right fist. "Let me end it forevermore."

The armored creature shattered into several pieces as Zasalamel struck with his spell. With a scoff, Zasalamel returned to studying the hieroglyphs, examining a single image engraved on the wall...

...a beast wearing a gray mask, with a left arm transformed into a three-fingered claw.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere in Japan... 

Though far from vain, Sophitia and Cassandra did enjoy shopping, and the sheer number of beautiful designs and embroidery available to them on the island they had recently landed on led to any number of trips through marketplaces and shops. Ivy snorted at the very thought, but reluctantly accompanied them. Siegfried would've normally insisted on avoiding such distractions, but the prospect of Sophitia and Cassandra frequently changing into even more attractive attire convinced him that it would be all right to take a short break from their journey.

Only Tira remained indifferent. She had never been shopping for clothes before, and though moderately interested in the designs presented by the enthusiastic Alexandra sisters, she remained stoic and silent all throughout. All her thoughts were for her Master, and she followed a few steps behind him at all times, keeping her eyes on him.

Siegfried began to worry about the girl, and asked Sophitia to help Tira out. Though the two had acclimated to each other, they rarely spent any time together, and Sophitia felt up to the task, as Tira's sometimes-childlike nature made her a bit easier for her to deal with. Amused at the prospect of Tira and Sophitia trying to cooperate during their reprieve, Ivy invited herself along. Siegfried had no opportunity to announce having any intentions of his own, and Cassandra seized the opportunity to take Siegfried along on her shopping trip, and the two left rather quickly.

Sophitia broke the ice - or tried to, anyway. "What would you like to do, Tira?"

Tira had followed her Master's movements until Cassandra dragged him off. She was pouting, and her jealously was readily apparent.

"Tira?"

Tira glanced over at Sophitia. "What?"

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

Tira suddenly appeared torn by indecision. Though she had become more keen at volunteering her opinion, she still wasn't used to it. However, since her Master was away, she had no one to command her, and she delved deeper into her thoughts.

Her purple eyes passed briefly between Sophitia and Ivy. Both of these women her Master had taken to bed, and she had always wondered why. It was possible she had grown stale to him. Her Master had seemed intrigued by the prospects of new outfits. Perhaps that would make her new and exciting again.

"I'd like to try on some new outfits, too." Tira replied. "Can we do that?"

Ivy raised her eyebrow. Sophitia smiled. "Of course we can..."

---

On the other side of Asia, the monstrous Nathaniel "Rock" Adams had regained renown at the lakeside coliseum, and had again made it to the finals to confront a powerful veteran warrior: a man named Dragon, wielding a specially designed Chinese sword. The two had barely begun to fight one another when a third contender forced his way in, ripping aside the cage wall with his left arm. The two combatants paused their battle, and quickly lost all animosity for one another when the man struck Dragon, flinging him back several yards and straight through another cage wall.

Rock gave a roar and charged forth, swinging his axe, only for the beast to fling the gargantuan man in the animal pelt over his shoulder and through another cage wall. Rock avoided falling into the water outside the cage, and attempted to continue his assault, only to be struck by a sudden blast of flame from the powerful adversary, as a sphere of fire shot up from the ground, moving in tune with the red-skinned man's arm movements.

The crowd went wild in watching the confrontation. They cheered for the newcomer, until he turned towards them, and leapt into the stands to attack the onlookers. Pandemonium promptly ensued, as nearly all the stadium's inhabitants fled...all save an old man in a green tunic, laughing at each dismembered person.

_He is as strong as I expected...but the result of the conflict is a foregone decision._

"**Greed."**

His laughter ceased immediately, and Greed turned, dropping to one knee, and humbly lowering his head. No more words were heard, but Greed nodded and gave his assent, before turning to look upon Necrid again.

"I must get everything in place." Greed mused. "Looks like I'll have to warn the light, before darkness consumes it."

---

Siegfried was completely at Cassandra's mercy, and did his best to offer his honest opinion on the outfits she wanted to buy without offending her. He was still uncertain of how to act around her. While Cassandra wasn't as beautiful as Sophitia, she was young, attractive, perfectly willing to give herself to him, and modeling her body for him, trying to capture his interest with every outfit and movement.

However, each time he felt desire for her, or any other woman, led him to doubt his integrity, honor, and courtesy. He almost constantly felt guilty, and yet he was certain he'd take another woman to bed...regardless how much he resisted.

"Well, what do you think?"

His train of thought broken, Siegfried looked up at the younger Alexandra sister, and the attire she had selected. Upon seeing his preoccupation, Cassandra became upset.

"Hey! You're not even paying attention!" She said, pouting and putting her hands on her hips.

After much apologizing (and convincing Cassandra to even hear his apology), she forgave him...on the condition that he continue to accompany her for the remainder of the afternoon.

---

Greed again dropped to one knee, keeping his head held low...except this time he was in a deep, underground sanctum, standing before a statue of Buddha, and, more specifically, a slim figure sitting cross-legged in Buddha's palm.

"I thought I told you I would kill you if I ever saw you again." The thin woman said, and snapped her fingers. At once, eight of the Fu-Ma Ninjas were upon Greed, holding their blades to his throat.

Greed smirked. "You're as polite as ever, Miser. I can offer you a better offer than my head, if you'll just hear me out."

"You'd part with something valuable?" Miser asked. "I doubt it, but go ahead."

"There is a foreigner in this country named Siegfried Schauffen." Greed said. "If you will agree to kill him for me, I will deliver to you your missing-nin."

At once Miser was upon her feet, illuminated in the overhanging lights, though her hood still obscured most of her face. "Where?"

Greed smiled. "I will take your men to Siegfried. Once he is dead, I will again submit to your authority and take you to the one you want."

Miser narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. "Very well, we'll assist you...but if you should run before you fulfill your end of the bargain, no place in the world will keep you safe from us."

Greed rose to his feet only to once again give a deep bow. "Oh, I won't be running, Miser...that's what _you're_ good at." With that, he was gone, and the eight ninjas followed him.

---

Zasalamel glanced down upon the blood-soaked floors of the coliseum. Only a few (including warriors like Rock and Dragon) had survived a vicious onslaught, with brute strength comparable to Zasalamel's magic. At first he suspected that Greed had orchestrated the damage, but Zasalamel found no telling signs...the devastation seemed to have been caused by claws, and not kunai knives.

Zasalamel roused the nearest survivor. "Who did this to you?"

Through blood dribbling from his mouth, the man managed to say: "Red skin...gray mask..."

Zasalamel shoved the man aside and looked out into the stands, following a long line of bodies outside the arena, as he felt power out ahead of him, traversing over the land very quickly. Intrigued, Zasalamel sank into the shadows and followed the power source. Within a matter of seconds, he was upon it, and the two confronted each other somewhere near the Eurydice Shrine in Athens, at the base of the mountain.

"...Who are you?" Zasalamel asked, speaking to the creature's expressionless mask.

The creature did not speak in any sort of comprehensive tongue: all it produced were grunts and growls, but these primitive statements made it clear that this monstrosity had every intention of fighting with Zasalamel.

"Very well." Zasalamel again reared back his scythe. "I will not waste my words upon you."

---

Siegfried and Cassandra were on their way to reunite with the others. They had taken several detours along the way. Cassandra took this as an indication that Siegfried wanted to make their alone time last a bit longer. However, Siegfried was only taking the detours to see if the cloaked people behind them would continue to follow them down every turn and path.

No matter which detour they took, the group following a short distance behind continued to tail them. Sensing malicious intentions, as Siegfried and Cassandra reached a simple stone bridge, Siegfried reached for the hilt of his Requiem and turned to face their followers. "What do you want?"

At once, the group discarded their cloaks, revealing a variety of weaponry: daggers, katanas, and sickles. They did not speak, but their intention was very clear.

Cassandra dropped the clothing she'd picked up (gently) and drew her sword. Though she was not as experienced in battle as her sister, she intended to help. She struck at the nearest assailant, her short blade clanging against the long steel of the katana. Siegfried used his zweihander to deflect two adversaries at once, and shattered a dagger in the hands of another. However, the assailants continued to attack, engaging in simple kicks and punches, encircling Siegfried and Cassandra and keeping them under constant pressure.

Cassandra managed to disarm one foe, only to be struck in the side with a powerful kick. She teetered backwards and fell over the side of the bridge, splashing into the water beneath it.

"Cassandra!" Siegfried called, but he could not get to her: he was surrounded, and he could not hope to deflect attacks from all directions.

And then, a quick rush of air passed by him, followed by the sight of two falling enemies. Siegfried's eyes swiveled around as a gray-haired man in a green tunic shot past and leapt skyward, landing on the shoulders of another and twisting around, breaking the man's spine in dozens of places.

Though unsure who this man was or why he was assisting him, Siegfried took advantage of the help and swung out his zweihander in wide arc, sending the enemies flying about. He went to strike at another when his ally stabbed the remaining two with his kunais, dropping them to the ground.

Facing the old man's back, Siegfried kept his zweihander up, trying to recognize him. "Who are you? Why did you help me?"

The old man waited several moments. "You might want to get the girl."

Siegfried turned to glance over the bridge, where Cassandra floated in the water, looking displeased. Siegfried glanced back at the old man, still standing with his back to them. Though suspicious, Siegfried discarded his armor and leapt into the stream and helped Cassandra out, cradling her in his arms.

"Thank you." Siegfried said to the old man's back.

"These mere lackeys are not the only things that threaten you, Siegfried." The old man told him.

Siegfried raised an eyebrow over his scarred eye.

"Your desires will consume you." The old man continued. "In the end, no one can escape their greed...or in your case, lust..."

"Who are you?" Siegfried asked again.

"Me?" The old man asked, turning to smiled through his thick beard. "I'm just a voice in your head...protect the swords as long as you can...it'll make them all the more valuable when you unleash the power and claim it for yourself."

Siegfried blinked. The old man was gone when his eyes had opened.

---

It took quite a lot for Zasalamel to become exhausted, but this red-skinned monster had actually managed to hold its own for over an hour, with no signs of tiring, leaving Zasalamel somewhat fatigued. He had stopped bothering to use his scythe, and was almost exclusively bombarding the beast with spells, only to be bombarded right back with jets of flame from the beast's claws. For all of his magical prowess, Zasalamel was being bested by this creature's raw physical strength.

Yet, Zasalamel refused to retreat, and tried to think up a way to defeat the beast while dodging it's attacks. A thought occurred. If he could remove the beast's armor and cut into its hide with his scythe, he might be able to subdue it.

Zasalamel sank back into darkness and reappeared directly before the creature. He clenched his fist right upon the beast's face and broke apart the gray steel mask, forcing the metal to dig into the monster's face.

After a brief roar, Zasalamel silenced the creature's inhuman cries with a cut into its neck, dragging it to the ground, its head barely connected to the rest of its body, hanging on by a few fibers and a single flap of skin.

Zasalamel panted, but quickly silenced himself at the sound of clapping, as Greed again appeared before him.

"Necrid." Greed noted. "Another soul who managed to reach Soul Edge, but remained enslaved to its will. He was sealed away for decades and guarded by Keres, whose pledge to seal evil away outlasted his body. Charade continues its quest to rejoin Soul Edge and unite with the shards. Just as you did to Siegfried, I have sent others to fight you in my place, to show you just how it feels to fight at all times."

Zasalamel sneered. "Siegfried has already revealed his weakness. I don't have any for you to take advantage of."

Greed smiled. "Oh, really? Powerful as you are, you are still bound to simple human weaknesses...you fear your own death, should your grand experiment fail."

Zasalamel glared at him. "I won't fail."

Greed laughed. "Oh, you will. If you don't mind, I'd like to accompany you...watch your ambitions crushed by the former Azure Knight."

"He cannot stop me." Zasalamel assured.

"Oh, he already has." Greed pointed out. "He has the swords in his position...if he should surrender to his deepest desires and fall prey to his own weaknesses, he would surely use the power of the swords to acquire that which he lusts for, and then, even you won't stand in his way. The world will be filled with darkness greater than anything ever seen before...and I'd like to be there and watch as you're born into it over and over again."

---

Back in Japan, Siegfried and his companions were resting by the side of a road. Night had fallen, but a town was within sight, so they knew they would have a roof to sleep under. However, they were weary from traveling for so long, and had taken a moment to rest by the roadside. While the others were fine with sitting on the ground, Tira preferred a perch in a tree. The group looked skyward and admired the night sky, and the stars twinkling in the distance. Stars...free, uncontrolled...yet alone, distanced by lengths she could not begin to comprehend.

It didn't matter how far she was from her Master...even there, only a few feet above him, knowing exactly where he was, her heart sank into the same darkness separating the stars.

So long as he held another woman in his arms, she would always feel alone, no matter how close they were.

---

And Necrid, one among many monstrosities driven by the will of Soul Edge, staggered upwards, indifferent to the pain in his neck, and began to stalk the land once again, searching for a dark-skinned man in a white cloak.


	32. Ephemeral Dream

"...Mm, Master…am I pleasing you, Master...? Does it feel good...?"

"...Tira…oh, Tira, it feels good...it feels very good..."

_Is that why I do this? Because it feels good?_

Siegfried looked down at the woman writhing passionately beneath him.

Is that the only reason? Is there no deeper meaning behind this? Is there no purpose, no significance...no love?

"Master..." Tira gasped.

_Do I love her? Do I love Tira? Is that why I wish to make love to her?_

_Does that mean I love Ivy?_

_Or Sophitia?_

"Master!" Tira squealed, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

_Should I even do this with someone I haven't sworn my eternal love and devotion to?_

_What does it matter? She satisfies you. Whether or not you love her, she loves you with all her heart, and all you had to do was tell her to._

No...it does matter.

_Why?_

Because love...love is important.

...Says the man who murdered his own father.

No! It wasn't murder...I didn't mean to...

That's right. Shirk responsibility for your sins and ignore them. Experiencing pleasure is so much better than remembering your crimes, isn't it?

No. There has to be another reason I do this...

_...Do you love Tira?_

_I don't know._

_Do you love anyone?_

_Of course I do._

_Who?_

...I love...I love...Siegfried froze. His eyes widened.

Ah, it is quite apparent how much love matters to you.

"...Master?"

Siegfried looked down again. "...Y-Yes, Tira?"

"Is something wrong?"

Siegfried managed to force a smile. "No...nothing is wrong." Siegfried continued.

_I need Tira._

_...Yet you don't love her, do you?_

---

_Love. What does it mean?_

Siegfried was walking alone down the streets of a Japanese city. He and his group had stopped there to sleep - but he had been unable to do so. Usually, he could easily fall asleep basking in the warm afterglow of a night spent with Tira, but that familiar comforting feeling was not to be found tonight. There were too many questions on his mind. Questions he'd brushed away in the past, but found himself unable to avoid now.

_Do you love anyone?_

_I make love to Tira. She means something to me. ...But I don't consider her someone special. She is...Tira. That woman who has been at my side for a long time now. That woman who is eager to satisfy any desire I have. That is how I see her._

_Ivy? A comrade. Cassandra? Another comrade. Sophitia? ...I am...intensely attracted to Sophitia. I believe that there is strong chemistry between us. I think she feels the same way toward me. But we have never acted on these feelings beyond embracing in passion. Beyond that, it may be impossible for there to be anything between the two of us - she was supposed to belong to another. He betrayed her - but they are more than even now, and she could take him back, should she choose to. Has she forgiven him? I do not know. I do not know if I love Sophitia._

_Who else is there? My mother? My father? ...I remember loving the both of them dearly. I loved my mother too much to show myself to her as stained with sin as I am. I still love my father, even in death. Yet I never see them. My quest is one of redeeming my worth so that I may face and honor the both of them – yet I have spoken to neither in years._

_It is true. I do not love anyone._

Siegfried felt a chill. The night air was becoming cool. There was a building nearby - it appeared to be an inn of sorts. Seeking refuge from the cold, Siegfried walked inside. He was almost sleepwalking - as his mind was entirely focused on his current dilemma, he paid little attention to the world around him; and simply let his body go through the motions required to be led to a warm, comforting place where he could think. He idly handed the innkeeper a few gold pieces to have a room - there was no need for speech or an exchange of proper currency, as both knew that the other did not speak their language, and gold was valuable anywhere. A Japanese woman in an elegant dress bowed before Siegfried, and gestured for him to follow her. He followed her, and she led him to a room. The room was slightly larger than an average inn's room, but its most curious aspect was that the furniture it contained was bizarrely shaped, even for a foreign land.

Siegfried paid the room no heed, and simply sat down on the most normal-looking piece of furniture to think.

_Why is love important?_

_When I was alone, I was desperately sad. Now that I have the company of others, I am far more content with my life. The company of others improves life so much. Deep bonds that go far beyond friendship are some of the most special things that there can be. To not have those bonds with anyone at all...I can think of nothing sadder._

_Do I truly love no one?_

_Sophitia...I admire her. I feel attached to her. I care about her - even respect her. But...is my bond to her so strong that I would call it love?_

_...No._

_My deepest bond...is with Tira. I take her for granted and use her selfishly - but if I were to lose her to another, I would be devastated. I cannot go long without her embrace. She has been with me longer than the others, and the bond between us only continues to deepen, no matter how I treat her. Tira...I should be so much kinder to Tira. She deserves better treatment than I give her. ...She deserves better than me._

The door to the room slid open. The person opening it was on their knees - it was a woman. In his short time in this country, Siegfried had seen a great number of elegant dresses, but few were as stunning as the red, long-sleeved kimono that this woman wore. She rose to her feet, took one step into the room, turned, returned to her knees, and then slid the door shut - she was adhering to extremely formal traditions. Siegfried wondered exactly who this woman was. As she rose to her feet again and turned to face him, he got a better look at her face – her features were far different than that of the other women he had seen in this country; she was no native of this land, despite her apparent mastery of their traditions and dress. She was European, although from which part, he could not guess. She was stunningly beautiful - as much so as Sophitia. Her pale, clear skin looked soft and supple, her breasts were large and pleasing, and what he could see of her legs nearly made his mouth water. She seemed to be without a single imperfection. Lust stirred within him again.

The woman bowed deeply in his direction, and smiled at him - coyly, seductively. "You may call me Setsuka." She said in perfect, unaccented English.

"...W-Why are you here?" Siegfried asked.

The woman - until now, the perfect picture of gracefulness and elegance - seemed concerned. "...I am here to keep you company, my lord."

_Company? In what sort of inn are the visitors sent company?_

Siegfried would remember being genuinely puzzled for a few moments before finally realizing the painfully obvious.

_...I am in a brothel._

He lightly began to shake his head. _How did I end up in - did I do this on purpose or - I should have looked where I was going before when I -_

"Is something wrong, my lord?" The woman asked. "Do I not fit your tastes?" Her second sentence was said with little emotion, as if the line was rehearsed, one she had repeated dozens of times.

"I - that's - " Siegfried finally regained his composure. "I am sorry. I did not realize that this place was a..." He did not feel comfortable finishing the sentence.

The woman snickered.

In that instant, her perfect image of beauty and poise was shattered. Realizing this, the woman let go of all previous inhibitions. She tossed her head back and laughed hard.

When she regained her composure, she was not as 'composed' as before - she let her posture slouch slightly, the modest and demure look on her face was replaced with a smirk, and her voice had lost its softness. "Haha...I'm sorry. This is the first time anything like this has happened. It's hilarious."

Siegfried was without words, after seeing the woman go through such a transformation.

"Here I was, ready for the rich foreigner who was doubtlessly expecting the best we had to offer, and it turned out...sorry."

The realization had been slowly creeping up in Siegfried's mind, and escaped through his lips. "...Are you a..." He stopped himself before he could finish - but it did no good.

"A prostitute?" Setsuka asked. "Oh, you have it wrong. This place isn't an average brothel. It's high-class."

"High-class...?"

"I don't know what the outside world is like, so I don't know if there are equivalents off of this island - but this isn't a place for street prostitutes. It's a place for courtesans."

_Courtesans. Prostitutes with more purpose than sex - companionship._ Someone else quickly came to Siegfried's mind.

"I am called an _oiran_." Setsuka explained. "Consider me a high-class courtesan. Only the wealthiest and highest-ranking men can hope to patronize women like me." She said, almost too smugly.

Siegfried was beginning to feel the strings of annoyance plucking at him. _This woman - so brash and smug about being a fancy prostitute. Has she no shame? Perhaps this is merely the way this culture works..._

"I don't work here - I travel, selling my services when I need money. Most of the time, I don't need to sleep with anyone - often, just my presence is enough."

The woman seemed less smug now - she was simply stating facts about her worth and value in this society. Still, Siegfried would have found it far easier to accept what she was saying, had she not dropped her formal act and shown her true, casual self to him.

"I hope that explains everything." She said. "...You're awfully quiet - is there a problem?"

_Yes, I'm sitting in front of a whore._ Siegfried faked politeness. "...I'm terribly sorry. You are a highly valued worker, and I have taken up your time because of my mistake."

Setsuka waved her arm as if to dismiss his words. "Don't worry. I don't mind. If you want to get your money back and leave, I'll explain the situation to the mistress if you don't speak the language." She stretched, and reclined on one of the oddly-shaped couches. "Then again, I think you should consider yourself lucky - you have a very talented woman at your disposal, and all paid for." She winked. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't enjoy it."

Setsuka's last sentence aggravated Siegfried. It was bad enough that she was a prostitute - but did she have to flaunt that she enjoyed her job as well?

_You have no business sleeping with women you do not love, especially prostitutes. You will ask for your money back and leave._

"I am sorry." Siegfried said. "I really should not be here. I know it must be considered wasteful to not..._use_ a woman like yourself, but I have no right to sleep with anyone right now."

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Like I said, I'm more than a prostitute. I'm a lot brighter than I look, you know – we oiran are trained to be excellent conversationalists, and smart enough to keep up discussions with philosophers."

"Once again, I am sorry." Siegfried said. "The only matter currently concerning me is not one that...a person such as yourself would be able to understand."

The woman's eyebrows moved again - this time revealing a slight degree of offense. "Why is that?"

Siegfried's annoyance had reached an intolerable level - he could no longer stand this woman, so casual, so smug, so sure of herself. As a rule, he aimed never to provoke conflict nor add to it - but tonight, for one of the few times in his life, he broke that rule.

"I could only discuss my matter with someone capable of feeling love." He said bluntly.

All emotion disappeared from the woman's face. She stared at him blankly - but there was something behind her eyes. A cold look - a spiteful look. Siegfried quickly realized that he'd crossed the line. He'd insulted a woman who was considered valuable and whom had devoted her life to a service few could provide. Yet, the woman did not chastise him for his lack of respect - instead, she did something quite different.

She ran her hands over her face. "Look at me." She said. "I am not Japanese. I don't know what I am. I don't know where I came from, or what nationalities my parents were. When I was a little girl, other people hated me. I was shunned and looked upon with disdain because of my appearance. I grew up with no family to turn to, and exposed to nothing but hateful words and violence all my life. To deal with it all, I simply closed my heart to the world."

_Is she explaining to me why she cannot feel love? Because she closed her heart to the world as a child?_

"Eventually, I ran away from the orphanage. Young and alone, I surely would have died - if it weren't for him. A man found me, and took me in. He let me live with him. Took care of me. Even gave me my name. If not for him, my heart would have stayed shut forever - but his kindness gradually opened my heart."

_Then her heart...is open?_

"Many people still looked upon me with cold eyes, but I learned to ignore them and let nothing trouble me. Our life was modest - very modest. But I managed to settle into a fulfilling life.

"Then, one day, my caretaker told me to deliver a letter to a companion who lived far away. It took me many months to travel there. After a long journey, I finally found my caretaker's friend. He was an old martial artist who ran a dojo in a small village. After he read the letter, he asked me many times if I would stay and live there with him. I realized what had happened - my caretaker feared that he was going to die, and had sent me to live with his friend.

"I could not bear the thought of my caretaker being dead. I hurried back home. I found him...I found him on the floor of our home, covered in grave injuries, and nearly dead.

"I managed to take him to a doctor and save his life. No matter how many times I asked him, he would not reveal to me how he received his wounds. I was certain, though, that he had lost in a duel. He had worked as a bodyguard, and his injuries prevented him from wielding a sword ever again - this meant the end of our income.

"He tried to behave as he always had, but he couldn't hide it - he was dying. But..." Setsuka seemed to falter for a moment before continuing. "...He showered me with something that I had never experienced before...love. Overwhelming love. Our modest lifestyle could not afford luxuries, yet still he bought me this." She said, holding out an arm to display her elegant kimono. "My feelings for him grew stronger than I ever thought possible. It was not fondness for him as a father, nor was it reverence for him as a master of martial arts - it was until many years later, after his death, that I came to recognize the nature of the feelings that had taken hold in my heart. I finally understood what it meant...to be in love."

Siegfried felt ashamed. Not only had he insulted an amazing woman, he had entirely misjudged her.

"On his deathbed...he told me the name of the man who injured him." Setsuka said. She looked away for a moment. "...A few minutes ago, I said to you that I travel the land. ...I do not travel..."

She turned her eyes towards Siegfried's again. "...I hunt."

The look in her eyes was not the cold, spiteful look from before - it was the look of a predator. The look of a hawk before diving from the sky to snatch its prey from the ground. As Siegfried gazed into Setsuka's eyes, he saw hate - loathing - fury.

Setsuka seemed to calm down. The hate in her eyes faded, but did not entirely subside. Siegfried chose now to speak up.

"...I'm sorry." He said. "...I'm sorry for misjudging you. I'm sorry for the suffering you've endured, and I'm sorry for the loss of the man you loved."

For a short while, Setsuka was silent. Then, she spoke. "...Forgiven."

Siegfried looked down. "...I have a feeling that...you may actually be far more suited than I thought to assist me with the matter that troubles me."

"Mm?" Setsuka asked, lifting her head up.

"I - my problem is - I - " _I can't stop having sex with women? She's going to think I'm joking. And after a serious speech like that, she would hate me if I tried to be funny._

"Yes?" Setsuka asked.

"...I don't understand love. I want to ask you - how can you sleep with people whom you do not love?"

Siegfried mentally slapped himself. _Fool. That question was far too personal. That might have been even worse than telling a joke._

Setsuka casually reclined in her seat. "Well..." She began. Siegfried perked up upon realizing that he had in fact not made a grievous error. "...When my caretaker lost his ability to procure income...I began to sell my body for money. I only intended to do it once - but I could not help but find it...enjoyable." A light blush came upon her cheeks, and she smiled slightly.

Siegfried found himself feeling a little queasy.

"My entire life, men had scorned me, called me ugly - but there were a few, a scant few - who found me beautiful. Who thought I was a goddess!" She said, blushing deeper and smiling more. "When those men lusted for me, for the first time in my life, I thought I was being loved by others. I enjoyed letting them embrace me - have their way with me - use my body to obtain ecstasy. It was...I can only call the experience flattering. To know that someone wants your body that much, to know that someone is enjoying your body that much. ...After the first time, I did it again. And again. I always charged - but just the sensation was more than enough. It felt good...physically, and psychologically."

She turned her eyes on him again. "I really see no problem with casually making love to any partner you choose. If it feels good, then do it - that's what I believe."

"...Does love have any place at all in sex?" Siegfried asked.

"Oh, of course!" Setsuka replied. "I can't imagine how amazing it would be to have sex with someone you're in love with. Sex with strangers feels good - but if there's a strong emotional bond between the two of you, it must feel amazing."

"So, you are saying that love is only something that makes sex feel better?" Siegfried asked.

Setsuka shook her head. "No, not just because it makes sex better – love makes _all of life_ so much better. Knowing love, understanding love, being in love - it's the best experience the world has to offer." She directed her eyes away, sadly. "...I only wish I could experience it with him now that I understand it."

"How does one gain an understanding of love?" Siegfried asked.

"I think it's something that everyone finds out on their own." Setsuka said. "Even if someone explained it to you perfectly, it'd mean nothing to you personally unless you felt it yourself."

Siegfried nodded. "...I...I understand it much better now. Thank you...thank you, Setsuka."

Setsuka smiled. "Of course. It's my job." She cracked her neck, becoming casual again. "Is that it? Anything else?" She gave him a wry smile, and arched her back to accentuate her chest. "Remember, you have an oiran at your disposal."

Siegfried felt his cheeks grow warm, and looked away. "P-please! I'm...trying to avoid temptation right now."

Setsuka blinked. "Avoid temptation, hmm...? You know, you're becoming a more and more interesting character. I'd like to learn more about you, lord...I'm sorry, did you ever tell me your name?"

"Siegfried." He said.

"Yes. Well, then, Lord Siegfried, why exactly are you trying to avoid temptation?"

"...I used to have restraint. Self-discipline. But...I am unable to restrain myself from pursuing women. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot stop myself once a woman..." Siegfried had never spoken these thoughts out loud, much less to a woman. His cheeks growing hotter, he looked away out of embarrassment.

He heard Setsuka giggle. "But _my_, Lord Siegfried, you _are_ cute." She said. "Unable to resist a beautiful woman, hmm? Mind if I test your claims?"

"Please, no!" Siegfried begged.

Setsuka laughed. "Cute, all right. So, besides a showing lack of restraint, can you think of anything else that's bad about sleeping around?"

"...I feel as if...I am disloyal." Siegfried said. "I have not pledged myself to any one woman. I feel as if I am untrustworthy and unfaithful."

"No reason to feel that way if you don't have a single lover." Setsuka said. "Although I must say that you're quite a mature man."

_If you think that's surprising, you should learn a few other things about me._ Siegfried thought.

"Well, is there anyone special in your life?" Setsuka asked.

Siegfried fidgeted. "I'm not sure."

"Not sure? Oh, boy. Let me get comfortable."

"There's Tira...and Sophitia...Cassandra likes me, although I cannot return her feelings...and Ivy...I think that Ivy is like you. She just enjoys the sex."

"Hang on for a moment - how many are there?"

"Just the four."

"_Just the four_." Setsuka repeated. "Alright. How did you wind up with four love interests?"

"Ivy and Cassandra are out of the question." Siegfried said. "As for how we all wound up traveling together...that's an extremely long tale."

"Traveling together? A man and his harem of four women?"

"P-please, you're embarrassing me." Siegfried begged.

Setsuka laughed. "So cute! But really, I need to hear the story behind this one."

"...I'm on a quest for something. Tira...is dependent on others. She became dependent on me, and so she joined my quest. Ivy is on a quest for the same thing I am. So is Sophitia, and Cassandra."

"Now that's odd - what are you all questing for?"

Siegfried sighed. "I really doubt you'd believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I've heard and seen some things I never would have believed were true. Try me."

Siegfried took that as a challenge.

"When I was a young man, I grasped the hilt of a blade known as Soul Edge. It took possession of me, and used my body to cause countless massacres - "

"Oh, come on, be serious." Setsuka said. "It's nice of me to lend you my ears, so be honest."

Siegfried's shoulders sagged. He felt hopeless. He had no proof with him. He could show her the Soul Embrace, of course, but he wasn't willing to go that far for her, as much as he liked the friendly courtesan.

"Never mind, then." He said. "We're all looking for...a way to destroy two swords. I'll leave it at that."

Setsuka kept her eyes on Siegfried for a few moments, as if judging him. "...And having love affairs at the same time?"

"Sadly, yes." Siegfried sighed. "We all get along, although the sex complicates things. In particular, Sophitia has a husband, Cassandra is her sister, and Tira - well, let's just say that Tira is something of a personal courtesan."

Setsuka stared blankly at Siegfried. "..._Lord_ Siegfried." She said, putting emphasis on the title of respect. "I'm not that familiar with your sense of humor, but already I believe that - "

"I'm telling the truth!" Siegfried hissed. Silence fell between the two of them. _It's over. There's nothing more to be done here._

He stood up. "Setsuka...thank you very much for your time. I believe that you are an outstanding companion and eloquent conversationalist - " _Oh, what the hell, I'm never going to see her again_ " - as well as a stunningly beautiful woman. I once again apologize for misjudging you in the beginning, and thank you for all the advice you've given me. I believe that we've reached the end of what we can accomplish here tonight - the subject of sex is touchy for me right now, and my life is beyond the realm of believable, so we will not be engaging in either of your areas of expertise." He returned to her the deep bow that she gave him when they first me. "I feel honored to have met you. I wish you luck on your search for - "

"Wait." Setsuka said, standing up. "You're serious? You're leaving?"

Siegfried hesitated. "...As I said, despite how attractive you are, I do not wish to have sex tonight, and since you will never believe my life's story, then there is nothing more that can be accomplished here tonight."

Setsuka gazed at Siegfried in an almost mournful way. "...You were telling...the truth?"

Siegfried nodded. "I have no reason to lie. I wouldn't disrespect you with lies."

Setsuka seemed to consider his words. "Why are you in Japan?"

"We have come as far East as possible in search of the most potent purification arts available in the hopes that we can purify...something of great evil."

Setsuka rubbed her chin. "And you're four foreigners who don't speak the language or know a thing about the customs?"

Siegfried flinched. "Yes."

"Well, then. You need a guide. You can pay me in money or sex. Your choice."

_...What?_

Setsuka smiled. "I'll throw in some free therapy, as well, since it seems like you've got a lot of baggage."

Siegfried was having difficulty standing up. "You're proposing - joining us? And being our guide during our tenure in Japan?"

Setsuka shrugged, inadvertently (or intentionally?) making her breasts wobble slightly. "Admit it. You'd like having me around."

"Would you really give up the life of an oiran to travel with us?"

"You're traveling across Japan on a hunt - so am I. You need someone like me, and, well, to be quite honest, you are the most interesting person I have ever met in my life, Lord Siegfried." Setsuka said with a grin. "You're cute in appearance and manner, I enjoy your questions, and I'd like to verify if your claims are true."

Siegfried had no rebuttal. She was right.

A smile involuntarily spread across Siegfried's lips. "...I'd be glad to have you join us, Setsuka."

---

Siegfried and Setsuka walked out of the brothel together. Setsuka explained to the mistress in Japanese that she would be taking a permanent leave. Siegfried could not understand what she was saying, but judging by the mistress' facial expression and the motions that Setsuka was making towards him, she was saying something along the lines of _This big strong foreigner was such an amazing lover, I am leaving to be his sex slave forever._

The two of them walked back to the inn, conversing with one another about their lives and the topic of love - Siegfried had never had such conversations before in his life. He truly felt that Setsuka had been an amazing find, and enjoyed her company thoroughly.

By the time the two of them reached the inn, it was morning. The four women were gathered on the ground floor of the inn, preparing to organize a search for Siegfried when he walked in with Setsuka. Their assumptions were unanimous - _"He went out and bought another sex slave."_ Siegfried and Setsuka had already prepared a simple alibi, however:

With the welfare of their mission clouding his mind, Siegfried had been unable to sleep, and had gone out in the middle of the night to search for a guide to lead them through Japan.

"Despite our fearless leader's reputation, I might have bought that story - except for one detail you forgot about." Ivy said. "I don't know much about the customs in this country, but I do know one thing about that sash she's wearing around her waist - except in martial arts, obi are always tied at the back - courtesans and prostitutes wear obi tied at the front for easy removal and retying."

Setsuka blushed and sent her hands to her obi - just as Ivy said, it was tied in the front, giving away her profession.

Siegfried and Setsuka apologized for their half-lie, and Siegfried told the truth:

With personal matters clouding his mind, Siegfried had been unable to sleep, and, while attempting to rent a room at an inn simply to get out of the cold, had accidentally checked into a brothel for courtesans. After explaining the misunderstanding to Setsuka, he had explained his group's current situation to her, after which she had volunteered to be their guide.

Although the girls couldn't imagine Siegfried walking into a brothel on _accident_, and suspected the two of sleeping with one another, they bought the new story.

Surprisingly, the women didn't have much a problem with Setsuka's profession; being a courtesan was apparently much more worthy of respect than being a prostitute.

"So," Tira asked, "you're like a slave who has a new Master every night?"

Setsuka cringed, but nodded. "You might say that."

"Siegfried." Ivy said. "How much does she know? It might not be wise to leak our purpose out to too many people."

"Sorry." Setsuka said with one of her sly grins. "No secrets - that's part of my contract."

The group agreed that it was worth it. All six of them went upstairs to Siegfried and Tira's room, where the Soul Embrace was being kept. Once seeing it for herself and hearing the testimonies of 5 people, Setsuka easily believed them.

"This is incredible." She gasped. "I never thought I'd be involved in something like this."

When Siegfried finally revealed to Setsuka that he once had been known by the name of Nightmare, her reaction was shocking.

"What? Y-you're Nightmare?"

"I _was_." Siegfried corrected.

"The man I'm looking for - I have few clues to follow - " Setsuka said, speaking quickly and almost stuttering. "First of all, I know his name – it's...Heishiro Mitsurugi. I know that he is a wandering swordsman who challenges other swordsmen throughout the lands he travels to, and that he is searching for a way to defeat the Tanegashima rifles. And last, I know that no one has seen him in Japan since he crossed the sea several years ago in search of a powerful swordsman...a swordsman by the name of Nightmare. My plan...my plan was to track down the one named Nightmare in order to find Mitsurugi...and, Siegfried, it was you all along!"

Siegfried was eager to provide assistance, but could do little to help. His memories as Nightmare were foggy at best, and he had no memory of whom he had fought or whom he had killed. He could not tell Setsuka if he had ever met this Mitsurugi, or if he was still alive.

Setsuka's shoulders sank. She was disappointed, but it would not stop her from aiding them. Her easygoing personality and charisma quickly earned her the friendship of the other four women, and she was inducted into Siegfried's group that very morning.


	33. Second Thoughts

_"Who are those strange-looking people?"_

_"Look at their faces and hair - they are foreigners."_

_"I've never seen anyone who looked like that before."_

_"Why do you think they're here?"_

Since arriving in Japan, Siegfried and his group had learned that gawking is contagious. Once a few people stop to stare at something, other people follow their gaze, and soon there is a small crowd surrounding the object of interest.

They had of course, taken measures to appear less conspicuous. They had all donned clothing similar to what they saw average civilians wearing, but they couldn't do anything about the fact that, above the neck, they looked nothing like average citizens of Japan.

Nearly every time they had visited a marketplace, they'd found themselves being followed by curious passerby who wanted to see the _gaijin_. Few onlookers had been hostile or unruly, whether because the sight of a group of foreigners is intimidating, or because Siegfried and the others let the hilts of their weapons remain visible.

Maxi had taught Siegfried and his group a few phrases that would enable them to function in Japan, and most shopkeepers had not been eager to refuse pieces of gold for their wares, even if it was not their usual currency. Still, on occasion, Siegfried and his group would find themselves in situations such as the one presently unfolding.

"...What is this? This is not money." The shopkeeping woman said, holding a gold coin up to her eyes, and turning it around. "Are you trying to fool me? Give me the rice back."

The crowd began to murmur. _"Foreigners - they never bring any good. They expect us to accept their ways and customs, and have no respect for our own."_ Siegfried could not understand the words of the woman or the crowd around him, but it was not hard to determine what they were thinking. Luckily, the inclusion of Setsuka into their party had done wonders to quickly remedy these types of scenarios.

"Excuse me," Setsuka began, "but are you aware that the coin are holding is pure gold?" The shopkeeping woman raised an eyebrow. "A piece of gold that size should buy thrice what we're attempting to purchase - you're lucky he doesn't carry anything less valuable than that gold piece, and that we can't carry any more rice with us."

Impressed murmurs from the crowd.

The woman closed her fist around the coin, and held it closer. "I don't know why I should believe you, but it'd be more trouble than it's worth to argue. Go on - take the rice then."

Siegfried bowed, uttered the proper Japanese words of gratitude, and the group was soon on its way again. They left the village, and traveled down a road beside a river that led to the next city.

However, despite the convenience that Setsuka had brought them, her slightly brash nature would also bring them occasional inconveniences, as well.

"...What do we do about them?" Ivy asked. She didn't need to indicate whom she was speaking of; the others could sense them - a group of men following them by a short distance.

"...I apologize for putting us in danger." Setsuka said, acknowledging that she'd tipped the men off by mentioning the value of Siegfried's gold in front of a large crowd. "The men following us are likely the types who kill rich travelers at night - and next city is two days away, with no inns along the way..."

"...Which means we'll need to deal with them before they try to slit our throats while we sleep somewhere unprotected." Ivy concluded.

The group continued walking in silence, each member quietly trying to think up the best way to deal with the would-be bandits.

"There are about ten." Siegfried said. "We've handled more, but the challenge would be finding a way to - "

Siegfried was too distracted to finish his sentence. Most would be distracted by an arrow flying past one's head.

"Your assumption was incorrect, Ivy." Siegfried growled as he reached over his shoulder, grabbed the hilt of Requiem, and raised it out of its sheath so that the flat of the blade protected the back of his head.

Everyone quickly knelt to the ground. The Alexandra sisters raised their shields before them, while Tira and Ivy did the same with their weapons. Setsuka opened the umbrella that was always at her side, and held it to cover her body. It would be a poor defense against arrows, but it would at least prevent the snipers from seeing her head.

The group once again silently tried to think up the best way to deal with the bandits, although this time they did not have very long to do so. "...I'm the most protected." Siegfried said quickly. "I'll stop them."

If bandits could be credited for any one thing, it would be that they prevented road travel from ever becoming boring. They were a threat in every land, and although Siegfried and the others would don civilian clothing for city travel, they would always re-equip their armor as soon as they were beyond a city's limits. Siegfried, in his full suit of armor, stood the best chance of withstanding the impact of an arrowhead, and without time to formulate a better plan, rose to his feet and began to dash toward the bandits.

"Siegfried! What are you doing? Stop!" Setsuka hissed.

"Let him go." Ivy said nonchalantly, the only member of the group who seemed to be calm. Her composure was less likely due to indifference than it was to the fact that she had seen Siegfried slaughter armies firsthand. "If you're going to worry about anyone, worry about those poor bastards firing the arrows." The only question in her mind was if Siegfried would live up to his reputation without the 'aid' of Soul Edge.

The men were standing atop a hill, firing down at the group. Siegfried held his Zweihänder in front of his face, pointing downward, flat side facing the men, and was charging top speed up the hill toward them. "I AM WARNING YOU! STOP NOW!" Siegfried bellowed. He knew that the men would not understand his words, but he hoped that there would be a chance that they would heed his warning anyway. They did not. They fired a shower of arrows at him, few of which actually struck him - but glanced harmlessly off of his armor.

Siegfried waited until he could hear the sound of steel being removed from a sheath, and then raised his sword in proper position for combat. He held his sword straight out to the right, parallel to the ground, and when one of the men was within range, he swung his Requiem at him. The flat of the blade struck the man, knocking him through the air. Siegfried was now in the middle of their group, and the men could not afford to fire their arrows without risk of shooting one another with a missed shot, so they, too, drew their own swords.

Siegfried did not spend even a moment in hesitation. He quickly moved from man to man in order of proximity, knocking them away with the flat of his blade, continuously swinging the massive sword and sending a man flying with each swing.

"This is extremely nostalgic." Ivy mused. "Except before, they were usually split in half."

A deep contrast to his previous days, Siegfried was only using his weapon in a pacifistic manner, dealing blows meant to send his opponents onto their backs, not into their graves. He swung his sword at one man who was holding his katana up in a defensive position. Siegfried's sword split the man's katana in half, and one shard flew into the man's face, leaving a deep gash. The man screamed as he was knocked away. Siegfried hesitated upon witnessing the sight.

Footsteps on the grass behind him.

Siegfried ducked, spun in place, and swung his sword in a wide arc close to the ground. The man charging at him yelped as he was tripped by the sword, and landed at Siegfried's feet. Siegfried slowly rose up, looking down at the man. The man then rolled onto his back, shoved a hand into his clothing, and pulled out -

_One of those, in Japan?_

BLAM 

The women gasped.

Siegfried staggered.

He looked down at the hole in his armor.

...No - it was a dent. The bullet had not passed through.

The man was already reloading his pistol for another shot. Siegfried then shoved his sword down and used the flat side of the blade to pin the man's arm to the ground. He pressed the sword down harder until the man groaned and let go of the firearm.

Siegfried once again rose to his feet, looking down at the man. He turned his attention to the others around him - they had far less spunk than their pistol-wielding companion. Most had at least a few broken ribs or limbs. Siegfried knelt down and picked up the pistol. The man at his feet winced. Siegfried ignored him, and began to walk across the hill, picking up each groaning man's katana and bow.

When he was done, he tossed the weapons into the deep and fast-moving river beside the road, and then walked down the hill to join his companions.

"...Master! You're amazing!" Tira said.

Siegfried smiled weakly.

"Wait - wait a minute." Setsuka said. "Aren't you going to kill them?"

Siegfried turned to her. "I thought I had made it clear before - I do not approve of killing."

She stared at him for a few minutes, then shook her head slightly. "Those men tried to kill you – all of us! They tried to kill travelers who had done no wrong, simply to take their gold! Those men are scum!"

"I will kill no one." Siegfried said flatly.

"If you let them live, then they'll just kill and rob other people!" Setsuka said.

"I have no right to judge the worth of others' lives. I have no right to decide who should live and who should die." Siegfried said. "...Everyone deserves a chance to change their ways. Everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves for their sins. No one deserves to die...before they have that chance."

Setsuka scoffed. "I doubt those men will decide to turn their lives around after this. Perhaps one or two will, but the majority of them will heal up, procure new weapons, and return to their ways."

"...So I should kill them all, even the one or two that would go on to turn their lives around? So I should kill them all, for sins they have not yet committed?"

Setsuka's mouth was nearly agape. "There is nothing to consider here! Those men are criminals! They're murderers and are only going to kill more people! Do you really think they deserve any mercy? They should die!"

"I am a criminal. I have killed. I will most likely be forced to kill again." Siegfried said. "Do I deserve no mercy? Should I die?"

Setsuka finally fell silent.

"I understand your reasoning. But I do not kill. Never again." Siegfried said with an edge normally not present in his voice.

He gathered what items he had been forced to drop to deal with the menace. As he did so, the others slowly began to do so as well. When they were prepared, they set out once again.

---

Setsuka' easygoing personality and large repertoire of interesting experiences had provided the group with a far less boring traveling experience since they had met her, but after her argument with Siegfried, she had been tense and silent.

Once night fell, the group found a suitable spot by the side of the road to stop and sleep. They built a small fire, and cooked their dinner over it. Occasionally, a member of the group would stand up, excuse themself from the camp, walk into the woods, and return shortly. It was a natural and perfectly understandable occurrence. However, when Siegfried got up to tend to his body's needs, Setsuka seemed to tense up, as if an opportunity she had been waiting for had finally arrived. After a minute or so since Siegfried had left, she stood up. "I need to talk to Siegfried." She said, and walked off in the direction he had gone.

The women were silent for a few moments, until one spoke up.

"Well. Shall we start placing bets?" Ivy asked.

"...Bets on what?" Cassandra asked.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Never mind. More rice please."

---

As Siegfried was walking back to the camp, a beautiful woman came out of hiding from behind a tree. "Siegfried." She said, a hint of anger noticeable in her voice. "There's something I'd like to discuss."

Siegfried seemed uneager to invite what he knew would be an unpleasant conversation, but nodded.

"You told me that you don't condone killing." Setsuka said. "I've told you that I plan to kill a man. ...Yet you haven't said a single disapproving word about it."

Siegfried was not sure how to respond.

"Tell me, Siegfried. What do you think of my plan?"

Siegfried could not help but feel that Setsuka's approach was clumsy, and unlike her - she was usually more...well-spoken than this. Siegfried's philosophy clashed with Setsuka's very mission in life - which perhaps caused her to question herself and her goal. He knew she must be quite upset about the matter to approach him so hastily.

"...I admit to hypocrisy." Siegfried said. He knew that was a strong remark, but rather than stubbornly defend himself and his philosophy, he'd rather let Setsuka know that he didn't consider himself perfect. "I never considered it. I suppose I don't usually think to judge others or their missions. Your journey...is one of revenge. I know - intimately - how the thirst for revenge feels. I was never able to taste the satisfaction of successful revenge - but I have, hundreds, thousands of times - been forced to taste the guilt of ending a life." Siegfried looked down. "...At night...when I sleep...I see them - their faces - in my dreams...my nightmares. Once you have killed, you cannot forget it. You cannot undo it. You cannot wipe the stain of blood from yourself. Even if you convince yourself that it was justified - the guilt will follow you - haunt you." Siegfried looked up. "I cannot reform every bandit. I cannot convince every person with murder on their minds to change their resolve. I let other people live their lives. I do not judge them, or try to change or reform them..."

A genuinely sad look appeared in Siegfried's eyes. "...But I do beg you to reconsider your resolution."

For a few moments, Setsuka seemed almost taken aback to see Siegfried that way - sad, begging. She glanced away, unable to look him in the eye. After a long silence, still not looking at him, she replied.

"...Not everyone has a conscience like yours, Siegfried...not everyone has your sense of guilt. If I had to kill to defend myself, or killed the type of scum that murders innocent people without remorse, I would never feel guilt."

"You say that - but have you ever killed?" Siegfried asked.

Still looking away, Setsuka didn't answer his question. "...You never got to find out what the satisfaction of revenge feels like. You never got to find out if there is any guilt involved. ...And, ironically, you feel guilt because of deaths caused not by you, but by something that was controlling you. I don't think you're qualified to tell me whether or not I'll be plagued with remorse. I'm not even sure if you have a right to feel as much self-pity as you do."

Setsuka heard a twig snap. The sound came from Siegfried's direction. She turned her eyes back to him. He didn't appear to have moved, but appeared to be just a litter nearer. Had he stepped closer very quickly, and resumed his previous posture just as fast?

If that was the case, then he had lunged for her, and then stopped himself at the last second.

...No. She was imaging things. He hadn't moved at all.

...Hadn't moved at all...

"...I'm sorry, Siegfried." She said. "I find your morals to be respectable. I think you're a good person. I don't think your philosophies are foolish. It's just that...part of me feels that...some of your feelings might be...misplaced." No reaction from Siegfried. She looked away again. "...About Mitsurugi...I still hate him for what he did to my caretaker. I still wish death upon him. As for whether or not I'll actually kill him..." She paused again. "...My plans...haven't changed. ...Although...who knows what I'll eventually decide to do."

Siegfried seemed to have nothing to say.

Setsuka smirked. "...Speaking of indecision, you never told me exactly how you're going to pay me for being your guide."

Siegfried looked up again.

"...If I remember, I gave you two options..." Setsuka said, beginning to slowly walk toward him. "The first option was money...which we all seem to be pooling, anyway. The second option..." She stopped in front of him, and smiled seductively. "...Do you remember what that was...?"

Siegfried's eyes darted to and away from Setsuka, and occasionally at her cleavage.

"Hm...you know, I bet you feel kind of cheated, don't you? You paid for a night with a sexy woman, and yet nothing ever happened. Don't you feel as if you deserve something?"

Siegfried's mouth seemed to be trying to speak, but no words came out.

Setsuka extended an arm and began to trace a fingertip down Siegfried's chest. "You've got a very impressive body, you know...Big, strong, powerful...I'm curious how you'd use your body while making love..."

"...I feel...the same way..." Siegfried whispered before stopping himself.

Setsuka smiled. "Hm, Siegfried...would you show me? Quickly, here, now? No one would know - and it'd feel so good - I guarantee you of that."

Siegfried's lips trembled, his eyes darted up and down Setsuka's body, and then his whispered his reply. "Yes."

Setsuka took a deep breath, and then let out a long sigh - one that didn't sound sensual at all. "Aw, Siegfried...tsk tsk tsk!" She held up her hands and shook her said. "After everything you said about wanting more self-control and trying to avoid quick flings...a woman who plans to murder somebody comes on to you in the woods, and you'd bang her right there?"

Siegfried's mouth hung open. He stammered a few times.

Setsuka sighed again. "Well, on second thought, I don't blame you. Few can resist the famous Setsuka, after all." She said, doing an exaggeratedly sexy pose. "I can't say I'm not a little disappointed right now, but I'm sure that, with some work, I can eventually train you to have that self-control you want so bad."

Siegfried looked hurt.

"...Aw, sorry, Siegfried. I didn't really want to lead you on and then disappoint you, I just wanted to see this supposed 'lack of self-control' for myself. I'd make it up to you the best way I know how, but you're trying to avoid that sort of thing, so...I suppose, as compensation, I'll just be your guide for free...for now, at least."

Siegfried stared at Setsuka, his face unreadable.

Setsuka walked backwards, stifling laughter. "...Hehe...Please try to forgive me!" She turned and walked back to the camp, giggling.

When Siegfried returned to the camp looking more miserable and disappointed than anyone had ever seen him, Ivy had but one thing to say.

"Well, there's 20 coins I would have lost."


	34. Justice and Revenge

He was known as "The Guardian of the Civil War."

He was known as "The Demon Swordsman."

He was feared all across a nation for his unmatched skill in swordfighting.

He was spoken of as a living legend; the type of man that would be remembered for centuries to come, spoken of in poems, reproduced in plays, and immortalized in myth.

He was born a farmer's son in the tiny village of Bizen.

He was strong, even as a young boy. He enjoyed farming, a rarity among even the families of farmers. However, his family's farm was often the victim of raids by enemy soldiers, or friendly troops that simply needed supplies.

After many years of seeing his family's beloved farm ravaged by war, he became angered and discouraged.

_It is better to raid than to be raided_, he thought.

In the winter of his 14th year, he threw down the hoe and took up the sword. Studying swordsmanship under a powerful clan-lord, he was eventually hired as a mercenary. It was then when he forsook his original name for the rest of his life, and took a new name:

Mitsurugi.

As the years passed, his very original style of fighting and tremendously powerful attacks during battle made him quite feared. "He has been known to mow through foes as if they were like a field of wheat." Some said, not aware of the irony of their statements.

He had a spectacular battlefield record with several commendations to the rank of officer. However, Mitsurugi rejected his military commissions. He did not live life by allowing others to tell him what rank he was; in his mind, there was only one way to determine one's worth and honor:

Facing an opponent as strong as oneself, and besting them in combat. Mitsurugi's only desire was that of a worthy adversary.

Mitsurugi eventually left his clan, much to their regret, to pursue a career as a freelance mercenary. He fought in every war in the land, loyal to no country, but a powerful asset to all who hired him - thus earning him the nickname, "The Guardian of the Civil War."

It is during this time that he heard of a new type of weapon. The Japanese people called the weapon "Tanegashima" - and it was a rifle.

"What is this? It looks like a pipe! This cannot be as powerful as they say." Mitsurugi scoffed.

However, in the battles to come, mighty and revered armies were wiped out by this new weapon.

For Mitsurugi, who had always fought with a single sword, this was an urgent matter. "If this weapon is allowed in the world, wars will not be won by the strong, but by any fool who can pull a trigger! Not only this, but I would lose my job as a mercenary! I must find a weapon stronger than that rifle!"

This was when a rumor of the legendary sword Soul Edge reached his ears.

"Perfect! This is it - the weapon I have been seeking. This sword could surely overpower the firearm."

For a time, Mitsurugi sought Soul Edge, following its trail and finding traces of it. However, eventually, he lost the sword's trail, and could find no more clues. Without a weapon superior to the Tanegashima rifle, he felt he could never return home, but he chose to return and challenge a rifleman to a duel in front of several Lords. Despite his skill, a swordsman was no match for a firearm, and Mitsurugi took a bullet in the chest.

Completely defeated, Mitsurugi realized he needed to study additional arts of the sword to match the Tanegashima rifle. After learning new styles, he heard the story of a knight named Nightmare and his invincible sword roaming Europe, leaving rivers blood in his wake.

"Prepare for my arrival, Naito Maru! I'll be there to take your sword!"

Mitsurugi set off across the ocean in pursuit of the sword without a moment's hesitation. He headed west towards Europe, where Nightmare supposedly roamed. Travels through foreign countries were difficult for Mitsurugi, who was unable to understand the languages of the places he visited. Nonetheless, he continued his travel, making ends meet by fighting battles as a mercenary. The added benefit of this mercenary lifestyle was that he was able to maintain his fighting form.

But time was callous and unforgiving. Eventually, rumors that Nightmare had disappeared reached Mitsurugi, and Soul Edge's trail ran cold yet again. Mitsurugi was still unwilling to give up, and continued his search around the world's battlefields for signs of the ultimate blade.

Four years after his quest had begun, while visiting a castle near the Ming frontier, Mitsurugi stumbled upon the trail of Soul Edge. It was a metal fragment of Soul Edge that he came across by accident.

Walking past one of the back alleys of the city, Mitsurugi came to a halt when he witnessed several assassins surrounding a gravely wounded man. When the assassins saw Mitsurugi, they pounced upon him, intending to leave no eyewitnesses behind. A vicious melee ensued, and Mitsurugi drove back the assailants, saving the man's life as a result.

The badly injured man handed Mitsurugi a piece of metal - perhaps he thought that he would be unable to accomplish his mission with his wounds. He asked Mitsurugi to keep it safe. He seemed afraid to let it fall into someone else's hands, but he would not explain any further. Without another word, the man vanished into a dark alley.

Mitsurugi had a difficult time believing the man who gave him the fragment, but there was no denying the sincerity in the man's eyes. "Besides," Mitsurugi reasoned, "why would a man on the verge of death lie to a complete stranger?"

After a short while of staring at the strangely alluring metal fragment he held in his hand, a thought occurred to Mitsurugi.

"...If Soul Edge was so powerful, why did it shatter?"

He apathetically put the fragment in his pouch. He no longer had an interest in the blade.

He tried to turn his mind back to his quest to find a weapon that could defeat a firearm...but the Tanegashima rifles no longer concerned him. There was no doubt that they were powerful weapons, but they were no threat to Mitsurugi. The fact that he had crossed countless battlefields, defeating every conceivable enemy - including those with rifles - was the greatest proof of that.

Both Soul Edge and the rifle, the weapons which he had spent years obsessed with, had become meaningless to him. Having lost his purpose, Mitsurugi felt an indescribable sense of emptiness. His quest to defeat the rifle had caused his pulse to race, excitement to well up from the depths of his body. He wanted that excitement again. He wanted another enemy. He wanted an opponent...an opponent stronger than he was.

A few days later, Mitsurugi was suddenly attacked by mysterious men. Mitsurugi fought off the attackers easily, and learned that their objective was to obtain the fragment of the Soul Edge that the dying man at Xiwei had entrusted to him. Judging by the outfits worn by his attackers, they appeared to be ninjas from Japan. They were most likely assassins sent out by a power-hungry Japanese noble.

He had felt that their sword technique was familiar. He remembered that a certain female ninja always seemed to appear and interfere every time he drew close to Soul Edge. She was from Japan, just as he was. Mitsurugi's thoughts drifted, wondering what was happening in Japan. His anticipation growing at the thought of a showdown with the female ninja, Mitsurugi decided to return to his homeland.

In Japan, it was the end of the warring states era. The powerful feudal lord, Nobunaga Oda, was dead, and the leaders of the states were faced with the decision of whether or not to align themselves with Nobunaga's general, Hideyoshi Toyotomi.

Upon returning, Mitsurugi stayed with the Noujima Murakami clan, which chose to not give in to Hideyoshi Toyotomi. The Murakami navy, once feared as pirates and rulers of the Inland Sea, refused to bow to the people of the land. They chose to protect their existence as proud men of the sea.

They paid a great price for their resistance, however. Having caught the attention of Hideyoshi Toyotomi, the Murakami clan was chased from the Inland Sea that was their home. Unable to accept this situation, the Murakami prepared to make their final stand.

Mitsurugi found no sign of the female ninja he sought, nor did he hear any rumors of powerful warriors wandering the country. It had been some time since he had seen battle, so Mitsurugi agreed to join Murakami's fight.

Not intimidated by the enemy forces' massive size, the Murakami navy commenced their nighttime raid. Centered around their large imposing warship, the "Floating Castle," a group of smaller ships formed together like scales on a fish. At the designated signal from a lantern light on the shore, they rode the tide in and charged the enemy fleet. This was the traditional secret strategy of the Murakami. Using the tide and wind, they could change their formation at will, matching the enemy and always maintaining the advantage.

The battle began. Splinters flew as ships from both sides collided. Cannon fire lit up the night, and the sounds of drums and horns were drowned out by the soldiers' battle cries. The smell of combat, the same in every age, drifted up. Feeling a rush he had not felt in some time, Mitsurugi stormed onto the enemy ships like a hurricane. His instincts took over, and the sight of him swinging his sword was that of a savage beast freed from its chains.

...However, it was not enough for him.

After the victorious battle, he was decorated for his service and invited to see the Murakami commander, but the battle had not filled the emptiness in his heart.

Mitsurugi fixed his eyes on his future. He had no need for money or fame. He had but one desire - a fierce duel in which his very soul would clash against his opponent's.

Mitsurugi always felt a peculiar feeling before a battle began...he felt as if he could sense a storm brewing just over the horizon. It had always been this way, before his first battle, and before each battle afterwards, on countless battlefields across countless lands.

And now, he began to feel that same sensation once more.

It many times stronger than it had been in the past.

It's going to happen...the battle I yearn for. The fight I have been waiting for. I can feel it. It's destined to happen...and it won't be long now.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest. He felt a reckless impulse similar to that which he had felt in his youth.

Little did Mitsurugi know how close he was about to come to death.

---

The moon was full, and not far over the horizon. It was not yet midnight, but there were very few civilians roaming the streets at this time of night. Most people were resting after the festival held earlier in the day.

Sakura trees are considered noteworthy for the vibrant pink flowers that bloom on their branches during springtime. A favorite pastime of many Japanese is the yearly _hanami_ festival - the traditional custom of observing the blooming of sakura blossoms, as well as enjoying the beauty of flowers in general.

Often, sakura trees are strategically planted for optimal viewing during _hanami_ festivals. Presently, a woman was walking down a corridor formed by two long rows of sakura trees planted on either side of her. They were _shidarezakura_ - 'Weeping Sakura' trees, with long, drooping branches, not unlike the equally ornamental Weeping Willow trees found elsewhere in the world.

The woman had chosen this spot for her battle because she believed it to be fitting. She had long seen sakura blossoms as enduring metaphors for the ephemeral nature of life and beauty. Just as the sakura blooms, spreads its beautiful petals, and falls away from its tree, so do humans enter the world, live their lives, and depart. Just as a flower begins as a bud and blossoms beautifully, only to wilt away, so does a woman begin as a child and blossom beautifully into an adult, only to grow old, grey, and wrinkled in the end.

If she were to die, she would not want to die old and withered, a shadow of her former self, but young and beautiful, surrounded by beauty. And if she were to kill her opponent, she would want him to die surrounded by a metaphor for his own death.

She could ask for no better witnesses tonight than the sakura blossoms.

---

"Cassandra?"

"Yes, Setsuka?"

The group had learned that it was dangerous to remain in one place for too long, but had chosen to stay in this city for just a little while longer in order to enjoy the yearly hanami festival. The group generally decided that they should all stick together, but since strange-looking groups of people gather more attention than strange-looking individuals, they had split up for this event. Setsuka had chosen to walk with Cassandra. There were many people around them, but most were paying attention to the sakura blossoms.

"I was hoping to talk with you about something." Setsuka said.

"Hm? What is it?" Cassandra asked, looking around at all the beautiful trees and flowers.

"Do you remember the reason I gave for wanting to travel with your group?"

Cassandra tilted her head to the side in thought. "Um...Oh! I remember. You're hoping that you'll be able to run into a man you're looking for while you travel with us."

"...I don't just plan to run into him. I plan to kill him." Setsuka said bluntly, making it clear what she wished to talk about. Cassandra was silent. "...There was a man who took care of me for many years. He was like a father to me. The man I seek - Mitsurugi - fought my caretaker, and although my caretaker was not killed in the battle, he was gravely injured, nearly crippled. He did not die immediately, but he died not too long after the fight. Since then, I've looked for Mitsurugi for one very distinct reason...to give him the same fate as he gave my caretaker."

Cassandra slowly nodded. "...I see. ...So, I guess the reason for the tension between you and Siegfried lately is because he knows about your goal, and he doesn't approve of revenge."

"Yes." Setsuka confirmed. "It has caused me to...question my objective. And now I am curious what the rest of you think. You, for example, Cassandra…what do you think of my aim?"

Cassandra put a finger to her lips. "...First of all, I'm really sorry that you lost the man you loved."

Setsuka felt her cheeks become red. She had not mentioned that she'd loved her caretaker - Cassandra had inferred that by herself.

"If I fell in love and somebody killed the man I loved, then I'd wanna kill him, too! And embarking on a journey for revenge - that idea seems so exciting and romantic..."

Setsuka's shoulders sagged a little. _She did not provide comments that were...as insightful as I had hoped for._

"I'm sorry, Setsuka, I really don't think about things like this very often. There are always many different perspectives to view anything from. From one point of view, you are someone who is seeking justice and retribution. From another point of view, you're...well, just murdering someone to feel better..."

Setsuka flinched a little.

"I'm really sorry that I can't help you more help on this subject. I guess the best advice I can give you is not to do anything if you have reason to think it may be a bad idea."

Setsuka nodded. "Thank you, Cassandra. That helps."

Cassandra smiled. "I'm glad!"

Setsuka politely said good-bye to Cassandra, and left her to admire the flowers. She walked through the area until she located Ivy. Ivy had not been especially impressed by the flowers at first, but now she did seem at least partially interested in admiring their unique appearance for a little while.

"Hello, Miss Valentine." Setsuka said. She spoke to each member of the group differently, knowing their personalities.

"Hello, Setsuka." Ivy replied.

Setsuka knew that she didn't need to mince words with Ivy, and told her what she had told Cassandra. Ivy showed no strong reactions. When Setsuka finished, she did not make any comments.

"...What do you think?" Setsuka asked.

Ivy seemed deep in concentration.

_Your mother? I raped her. Soul Edge wanted to create a spare host - so it had me make you. That's all there is to it. If you were expecting some long story to soothe years' worth of pain...sorry, but you're out of luck!_

You will never serve the purpose you were born to fulfill. You're a completely worthless person. You're the perfect definition of a waste of human life. Unwanted, undesired...You're nothing but trash.

Ivy spoke at last. "...There was a man who was responsible for all of the suffering I've ever endured during my life. I did not actively seek him out, but once I found him, I killed him. And after I did, I felt much better."

I do not think that someone is a failure if they cannot serve the purpose they were born for. If one was born to serve a wicked purpose, and they refused to do so, I would think far better of them. If they deny their original wicked purpose to replace it with a new one that will better mankind, then they are truly an admirable person.

"Once that man was out of my mind, I was able to concentrate on other things - better things. I'm glad I killed him." Ivy finished. "I am not sure what path is the best for you, but I do know that in my case, killing the person responsible for my pain gave me a sense of closure and allowed me to move on and improve myself."

Setsuka slowly nodded her head a few times. "I see...I'm glad you were able to do that. I hope I will be able to achieve the same result.

When Setsuka approached Tira with her situation, the girl's comment was short and precise. "You don't like him and you want him dead? Then kill him!"

Setsuka was beginning to believe that she had chosen the right path, and that Siegfried was simply too righteous to see things clearly anymore. But she still had one last person that she wished to speak to before her rendezvous...

---

The woman walked down the corridor of sakura trees, holding up a paper umbrella. She held it low enough for it to hide her eyes, out of respect and humility for the beauty around her. When she heard footsteps, she stopped walking, and raised the brim of the umbrella high enough to see.

There was a man further down the corridor, quickly approaching her - her 'date' for tonight. He walked with neither grace nor humility, but purpose and courage. _Let's get this done_, his legs said. He reached for his sword, pulled it from its sheath, and held it before his face, grinning with anticipation.

In contrast, the woman's movements were smooth and elegant as she lowered her umbrella and pulled on the bottom its handle, drawing forth the laito blade concealed within.

Once the man had drawn close enough, the woman flung her paper umbrella into the air. It rose high, and would fall between the two of them.

The man glanced up at it in slight puzzlement, then quickly deduced its purpose - in the split second when the umbrella was between the two of them, he would not be able to see her, and she would launch some form of surprise attack.

Smirking, he swung his sword in a downward slash to slice the umbrella in half as it came between the two of them - and as the two halves of the umbrella fell away, he beheld the woman dashing toward him with speed he would never have expected. She was holding her sword back, obviously planning to thrust it at his heart for an instant death. _Battou_ - the art of killing from the first strike. If he sidestepped, she'd simply swing to the side to cut him quite effectively. It was a sound strategy, and he had only a split second to find a way to counter it.

The man quickly turned his sword vertically and sidestepped just enough so that the woman's blade would strike his. His plan worked, and the two weapons scraped against one another, causing sparks to fly and the grinding of metal to be heard.

The two pushed against one another's' blades, each trying to over-power the other. Their blades shook and their arms trembled as they each pressed with all the strength in their bodies, their eyes locked on to one another's and their teeth gritting from the effort.

Knowing that any action at this point was a risk, but also knowing that the only way to break the stalemate was to take action, Mitsurugi tilted his blade to the side, then moved it up, pressing the woman's blade away from him. When there was just enough space between him and the woman's weapon for him to pull off an attack before being struck, he curved his blade around hers and made a horizontal slash at her.

Setsuka had become considerably flexible to excel at her profession. She arched her body backwards, and Mitsurugi's blade passed by inches above her. She whipped her body upright again, and slashed her weapon at Mitsurugi. He parried with his own slash. This time, Setsuka had the advantage of more leverage than Mitsurugi, and gave a hard shove with her weapon, causing his body to turn to the side.

Mitsurugi did not turn around, and instead turned his sword backwards and thrust it behind him. There was a sound of metal tearing through fabric - but not the sound of metal through flesh.

Both opponents pulled away. Mitsurugi turned to see that he had sliced off some of the fabric of Setsuka's elaborate kimono. It was a pity that such a beautiful dress had been cut, but Setsuka was to blame for bringing it to a battle. The fabric he had cut away now exposed most of Setsuka's right leg. Mitsurugi smirked and winked, showing his approval. Setsuka rolled her eyes, and both attackers resumed their fight.

Their blades clashed several more times, and each time, they both slipped just out of reach of their opponent's attack. Knowing that only creativity would win the battle, Mitsurugi threw a high kick straight at Setsuka's face while the two were in the middle of a stalemate. She recoiled in pain and shock, but then went back on the offensive with a horizontal slice at Mitsurugi's abdomen.

Mitsurugi ducked and rolled to the side, and then thrust his sword up at Setsuka. She slid to the side, dodging only by a hair's width, but did not dodge Mitsurugi's foot when it slid out and struck her ankle.

Setsuka went tumbling to the ground. Mitsurugi leapt up, stood above her, and held his sword aloft. "You're mine!" He hissed, plunging it down at her neck. She twisted her torso to the side, and the blade cut only the ground beside her. Mitsurugi twisted the blade down like a guillotine to behead her, but Setsuka quickly swiveled around and sat upright, narrowly missing the path of the blade. She grabbed hold of Mitsurugi's legs, and pushed him down. Mitsurugi went falling to the ground as well.

Setsuka put a foot on Mitsurugi's blade, keeping it on the ground. Mitsurugi thought he would be clever by letting go of the hilt and shoving her off, but Setsuka kicked the blade away as soon as he let go of it, and then pinned his wrist to the ground with her foot. She sat upon his chest to keep him from moving. As he reached with his free hand to shove her off, she held it at bay with her right hand and clutched her sword with her left hand. She took aim at Mitsurugi's neck. Even if he tried to dodge, there was no way he would be able to escape the blade.

_This is it. I will finally have vengeance. Mitsurugi will finally receive his punishment..._

---

"Sophitia?"

"Yes, Setsuka?"

"I was hoping to speak with you about something."

For the final time, Setsuka repeated her true motives.

"Now that you know what I plan to do...what do you think, Sophitia? Do you find it...disgraceful?"

"...I...can't really say." Sophitia said. "I'm not sure if I can relate to you. I've never been wronged in such a way that made me want to - "

_You're not me! You don't know what it's like being married to Sophitia Alexandra!_

Sophitia stopped speaking as several memories came to mind.

She remembered staring at two naked bodies glistening with sweat, grinding against one another.

_I'm almost there...oh, you're so perfect, baby..._

She remembered stumbling to the ground, and looking up at Rothion, his face twisted in fury.

_I married you, not an empty spot on a bed, but guess which one I lay next to at night!_

She remembered a hand across her face.

_Why did all of this have to happen? All I wanted from him was love and comfort...Who will love me now? Who will comfort me now?_

She remembered a warm, pleasant embrace.

_Siegfried...I want you to touch me._

Sophitia considered her earlier statement. _Perhaps I can relate to Setsuka more than I think. After all, Rothion was disloyal to me, and I was disloyal in return..._

_...Yet...it wasn't for revenge. I just wanted someone to make me feel loved and desired...and I wanted...him in particular to desire me..._

_I've continued to sleep with that man out of a need for comfort, or merely out of lust...but never with revenge in mind. Rothion wronged me, and he deserves the same to happen to him in return; that is the justification for the nights I spend with Siegfried. "He deserves the same in return" is the justification behind taking revenge on someone, as well. I may not be intentionally seeking revenge against Rothion...but I justify my actions with the same principle..._

_Yet...as far as I know, Rothion has only cheated on me once...but I have slept with Siegfried more than once. Have I been unfair? Should I feel guilt or shame, for wronging him 'more' than he has wronged me? Or what if I'm mistaken, and Rothion has in fact slept with dozens of women dozens of times? I might never know the truth..._

_...This situation is awful...if only it had never happened..._

Sophitia realized she'd been silent for a short while, and spoke up.

"Setsuka...I have never taken revenge on someone, but I know - very well - how it feels to believe that you are justified in returning to someone what they have given to you..."

"I'm not taking about returning a lame gift that somebody got you. " Setsuka said, with a slight edge of annoyance in her voice.

"...That's not it." Sophitia sighed. "A man wronged me. Betrayed me. He broke the vows he made with me and did something which cannot be undone or forgotten. And afterwards, I did the same to him."

"...Then you did take revenge."

"No...I did not do it for retribution, but because I felt it would no longer be wrong or bad to do the same thing that he did. ...However...I still feel guilt."

Setsuka arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say that you feel it's fine to return to him what he gave to you?"

"That's what I always tell myself. ...But, when I think about it, I worry if I'm wrong. I worry if I'm not as justified as I think, and if I'm only making the situation worse. Now there is not one betrayal, but several. There is not one wrongdoer, but two. Before, forgiveness might have resolved the issue, but now, the problem is far more tangled and complex than it was at the beginning. My actions comfort me for a little while, but I always question myself later."

Setsuka took in Sophitia's words.

Sophitia spoke again. "I know that this...'Mitsurugi' has killed a man who meant very much to you, and in return, you feel that Mitsurugi deserves death as well. ...But bloodshed and death are terrible things, and adding more of each will only make things worse. Killing Mitsurugi may punish him for his crime, but would only make things bloodier than they are now, and may introduce complex problems that you are unaware of. What if someone goes after you for killing Mitsurugi, and the cycle endlessly repeats? You can put a stop to this, or you can increase the amount of death and blood involved."

Setsuka shook her head. "Mitsurugi is known for the destruction he has caused on countless battlefields. He will likely kill many more men in his life, even after this war ends. If he would harm my caretaker, a kind, gentle man, he would harm anyone. Mitsurugi is a foul man without honor, and will cause no good in his life. His death would prevent the suffering and demise of countless others."

Sophitia seemed to not know how to respond. "I suppose there are exceptions sometimes...if Mitsurugi is a man who should be killed regardless of what he did to your caretaker, then I suppose killing him would be a good thing. ...But...you cannot tell what the future will hold, and you cannot tell what sort of unforeseen circumstances may arise, should you kill him."

"The future is always unpredictable, and every action holds unforeseen circumstances. That is life." Setsuka said simply.

Sophitia did not wish to argue - and did not have much to counter Setsuka's statements with, either. "I'm sorry, Setsuka, but I don't know what to tell you. I can't help you with this."

Setsuka slowly nodded. She had been far more insightful than her sister had been, but she did not know whose advice to take.

Setsuka had learned that Mitsurugi was in this city, and had a messenger send him a letter – she only wrote that she was someone who wished to fight and kill him. She knew that she wouldn't need to say anything more to provoke a man like Mitsurugi into a fight. She told him the time and place she desired, and from that point on, all she had to do was wait.

---

_Don't do anything if you have reason to think it may be a bad idea._

_Once that man was out of my mind, I was able to concentrate on other things - better things._

_Bloodshed and death are terrible things, and adding more of each will only make things worse._

"You sure are taking your time at savoring this moment." Mitsurugi muttered. "It's anti-climatic. If you're going to kill me, hurry up."

"You don't seem very phased." Setsuka replied.

Mitsurugi smirked. "I can die happily, now that I've finally had the battle I've sought for so long. A battle where I was evenly matched - bettered, even. A battle where my heart and soul clashed with my opponent's. It was my only wish. It was what I'd really wanted all my life."

Setsuka shook her head. "All you want is to fight for no other purpose than excitement? What a shallow, pathetic man."

"An ironic remark. I once nearly killed a good man because he asked me to give him that kind of fight."

Setsuka's heart nearly skipped a beat.

_It couldn't be - could it?_

"That man - what was his name?"

Mitsurugi seemed puzzled. "Why do you care?"

"_What was his name?_" Setsuka growled, pressing her blade against Mitsurugi's throat.

Mitsurugi uttered the name of Setsuka's mentor. The one who had raised her.

Setsuka was silent for a while.

"Someone you know?" Mitsurugi asked.

"...Someone I loved." Setsuka said.

She rose up off of Mitsurugi.

Mitsurugi arched an eyebrow. "You're...letting me live?"

Setsuka found her umbrella. The paper canopy was ruined, but the shaft was unharmed. She carved away the canopy and ribs, and returned her blade to the shaft.

"I no longer wish to kill you."

Mitsurugi was puzzled for a moment, and then slowly smirked. "...I get it." He said, dusting himself off and rising to his feet. "You despise me because I only care about getting into exciting fights. And now you learn that the man you loved about only cared about getting into exciting fights, too. I only injured that man because he wanted to have the fight of his life with me, and I gave it to him. Now that you've learned that his injuries were something he asked me to give him, you can't consider me responsible for his death anymore."

"...Although that would make sense, I decided to spare your life before you told me that." Setsuka said. "I am sparing you for far more noble reasons - killing you would make me feel better, but would make me a murderer, and wouldn't undo the past. Revenge is pointless."

"...Hmph!" Mitsurugi scoffed. "Death follows me everywhere I go, whether I like it or not. Is that a good reason to kill me?" He goaded, dissatisfied at the anti-climatic ending to his fateful battle.

"It is unfair to kill someone for crimes they have not yet committed, and everyone deserves a chance at redeeming themself for past sins." Setsuka said.

"Hm. You seem like a wise woman." Mitsurugi admitted.

"...I just have wise friends." Setsuka confessed. She pointed her umbrella shaft at Mitsurugi. "I've spared you to give you a chance to make something of your life. Find a better purpose than fighting just for the sake of fighting. Good men die pointlessly that way. Find a purpose that isn't shallower than the puddle you're standing in."

Mitsurugi looked down to find one of his feet in a small puddle of water. He looked up to see that Setsuka's blade was inches from his face.

"...And don't let your guard down so much." She said with a smile.

Setsuka sheathed her laito again, and then turned and walked away just as elegantly as she had been walking a few minutes ago.

_I don't need to kill a man to get over him and put him out of my mind. I don't need to make myself a murderer in order to forget the past and move on. I can stop thinking of Mitsurugi this very minute, and dedicate the rest of my life to a far more noble purpose. _

_I'm glad I spoke with the others about this today. They all helped me realize things I would never have seen by myself. They're good people._

She realized something. A moment ago, she had called them friends. She'd never called someone a friend before in her life. A realization struck her.

_...I have good friends._

She smiled.

_Instead of keeping one eye on my past and one eye on revenge, I'll keep one eye on the good things I have in the present, and one eye on the good things I can look forward to in the future._


	35. Crimson Shadow

Kurosawa was shivering_. Always at the wrong place at the wrong time. It's the story of my life_, he thought. _The only time I've ever seen rain in Kofu, it just has to be on one of my outdoor shifts. Being on guard duty is never fun, but being on guard duty in the cold rain is even worse._

The unlucky guard paced back and forth in front of Maizuru Castle, wading in neck-deep self pity, even though the water wasn't even high enough to submerge his toes. Sighing at his misfortune, he turned disinterested gazes left and right, putting on a show for anyone who might be evaluating his performance. As he glanced toward the walls of the castle, he couldn't help but feel as if something was out of the ordinary. Was it his imagination, always hard at work to make his life seem harder than it actually was? ...Or was there really something amiss?

Just as he was about to dismiss his suspicion, it hit him.

_The o-fuda talismans._ They weren't on the castle's walls; they had been washed off by the rain, and now lied crumpled and wet in the rainwater on the ground.

Kurosawa's first reaction was panic. _Without the o-fuda talismans, this place will be overrun by demons! We're all doomed!_

The wave of panic quickly subsided to skepticism. _Wait a minute. Do we really need the o-fuda talismans, anyway?_

_Everyone says that o-fuda talismans keep demons and bad spirits away...but they're just strips of paper with fancy-looking holy words, written with "blessed" ink. Why would paper and ink keep demons away? I bet it's just a scam; I've never even seen any proof that demons exist in the first place. I've got a wart on my ass, and I've never been attacked by a demon, does that mean that my wart has holy powers? Don't think so._

_Geez...do that many people really believe in supernatural things like ghosts and demons? Pieces of purportedly holy paper that supposedly keep alleged demons away. Yeah, right._

Despite his feelings of skepticism, Kurosawa felt a sensation of dread slowly growing inside of him. No matter how hard he tried to quell the feeling of anxiety, it wouldn't go away. It was as if some outside force was rousing a fear within him.

Eventually, the feeling of fear was so powerful that Kurosawa was able to sense its source.

He slowly turned around, facing away from the castle walls, and directed his eyes at the stone path leading up to the entrance.

The stones were moving, as if hands beneath the ground were trying to shove them aside and climb out.

Kurosawa was shivering, but this time, rain was the furthest thing from his mind.

Kurosawa watched as what looked like purple, wrinkled fingers slowly dug their way out of the ground, gripping and pushing aside stones. Two hands followed, with skin as crumpled and discolored as the fingers.

Kurosawa did not wait for the rest of the body. He dashed to the entrance of the castle, and banged hard on the gates.

"LET ME IN! A DEMON! THERE'S A DEMON OUT HERE!"

A few voices called back. "What'd you say? A demon?"

"OPEN THE GATES! OPEN THE GATES NOW!"

A few guards rushed to the platform above the entrance, looking down to the area below. They saw the hands - now arms - prying out of the ground.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"IT'S A DEMON! THE RAIN WASHED THE O-FUDA TALISMANS OFF!"

The guards started panicking.

"Quickly, open the gates! Kurosawa is trapped down there with a demon!"

"No, you fool, we'll only let the demon inside!"

"What?!" Kurosawa gasped. "You can't just leave me here to die! LET ME IN!"

The guards were scrambling, unsure of what to do.

Kurosawa looked back toward the stone path. He saw the upper body of a man in samurai armor, pushing himself out of the ground. His skin appeared nearly purple in color, and his eyes were yellow and red. His expression seemed furious.

"Stay away - stay away - don't hurt me, please!" Kurosawa begged.

"...I am..."

Kurosawa froze. _Did the demon just...speak?_

"...I am..." Raspy words crawled out of the demon's throat. "...I am the Daimyo..."

_What? The Daimyo? This thing thinks it's the ruler of the castle? Is it the ghost of a former Daimyo, or something?_

"Uh - look, Mr. Demon - even if you were a Daimyo at one point, you're dead now." Kurosawa said, making himself one of the very few individuals that had ever tried to reason with a demon. "Look at you, you're all decomposed! Please, just return to your grave!"

"...I made an oath..." The demon growled. "...In his place..."

"...What?" Kurosawa asked, blinking confusedly.

"...I will be the Daimyo for him...I will be the Daimyo of this clan..."

The demon had now pulled its entire body from the ground. As Kurosawa studied the demon, he noticed that the demon had a scabbard at its side. He yelped, and drew his own blade. "Stay away!"

"YOU DARE RAISE YOUR SWORD AGAINST THE DAIMYO?" The demon roared, drawing his own sword.

The demon charged forward. Kurosawa was unable to dodge, partially from a lack of good reflexes, but mostly from fear. The demon's blade ran through Kurosawa's stomach, impaling him.

The thoughts of dying men are often a mystery, but here Kurosawa's last thoughts are recorded.

_My wart doesn't keep demons away, after all._

The demon shoved aside the unresponsive body of a man who was always at the wrong place at the wrong time, and began to bang on the large wooden gate of the castle.

"LET ME IN...LET YOUR DAIMYO IN..."

The wood of the gate began to splinter.

---

The Daimyo of the Shinano and Kai provinces was named Takeda Shingen. One day, Shingen's brother, Nobukado, introduced him to a thief that he had caught. Upon seeing the thief, Shingen's eyes grew wide - for looking at this man's face was like looking into a mirror. The thief bore a strong resemblance to Shingen - the two looked as if they might have been identical twins. Nobukado had spared the thief's life because he thought the thief would make an effective body double for Shingen.

Shingen spent much time with the thief, teaching him how to properly imitate his behavior. Shingen and the thief eventually grew close and became friends. The thief felt a deep respect for Shingen, and considered it an honor to put his own life on the line to protect the Daimyo's life.

Despite the clever precaution of using a body double, the real Shingen was eventually shot by a sniper's arrow, and mortally wounded. The only witnesses were his generals and body double. With his last breaths, Shingen begged his generals to keep his death a secret. As tears rolled down his cheeks, his double made an oath to his dying friend to take his place.

And thus, the man who was once a petty thief took up the task of impersonating Shingen full-time.

The impersonator was so good at imitating Shingen that he successfully fooled Shingen's friends, concubines, and even his grandson. His act awed the generals who knew his secret. Spies who were sent to investigate whether or not Shingen still lived were convinced by the impersonator's performance. At one point, the impersonator even led reinforcements into a battle, and inspired his troops to victory.

However, the impersonator eventually made a fatal mistake. In a fit of overconfidence, he attempted to ride Shingen's horse - an unruly creature that only Shingen himself had ever been able to tame and ride successfully. When the impersonator was unable to straddle the horse, no matter how many attempts he made, he was revealed as an impostor.

"You're not Shingen! You're an impostor! What have you done with our Daimyo?!" Cried the men who had witnessed the impersonator's failure.

Overwhelmed by frustration, the impersonator cried, "Shingen is dead!"

None of Shingen's generals were present, so there was no one to defend the impersonator. The warriors present misinterpreted the impersonator's words, and took them to mean that the impostor had killed Shingen himself to take his place. Enraged, they charged at the impersonator to apprehend him. In fear, the impersonator began to run away. An archer fired an arrow at the impersonator's leg to stop him, and hit his target - but when he was shot in the leg, the impersonator tripped and fell into a pit that was being dug in front of the castle so that a stone path could be laid there. He broke his neck upon striking the bottom of the pit.

Shingen's warriors, believing that a man foul enough to assassinate their Daimyo and take his place was not deserving of a proper burial, merely filled the pit with dirt and stones to complete the stone path and bury him on the spot. When the generals discovered what had happened, they were bewildered, but decided not to reveal the truth. Shingen's son inherited the title of Daimyo.

It was at this time that the generals believed it would be wise to place o-fuda talismans on the castle walls, to protect the castle, should the impersonator's angry spirit ever rise again to take revenge for his wrongful killing and honorless death.

---

The demon had finally made it to his throne room. Along the way, he had slain those who had dared to raise their swords against the Daimyo. A man was sitting upon the throne. The demon was the true Daimyo, not this man sitting in his throne. So the demon killed him, too.

The demon's mind turned to a troubling matter. His castle was presently on fire. He had been reckless as he traversed through the stronghold, and had knocked down quite a few torches and lanterns. Putting out fires was not the job of a Daimyo - that's what servants were for - so he'd paid the fires no mind. But he'd been forced to kill many servants that had refused to obey his orders as he'd walked through the halls to his throne. Who would put out the fire? He paid this matter no mind. He was the Daimyo. That's all he had to think about.

He heard a loud crash behind him - a part of the ceiling had collapsed, most likely due to the fire. The demon growled in anger at the useless servants who had not put the flames out yet. He turned around to inspect the destruction, and beheld a figure kneeling in the debris of the ceiling. This individual had apparently decided to enter the room from above. As the figure stood up, the demon quickly recognized that it was a woman.

The woman appeared to be wearing a skintight red suit over her entire body, along with a mask on the lower half of her face and a few pieces of light armor on her arms and legs - sneaking gear, even if the red bodysuit was slightly too bright in color to be practical. A spy? An assassin? Whoever she was, she had demonstrated that she did not have the cognitive ability to understand the function of a doorway, and that she was rude enough to disrespect the Daimyo himself by both intruding unannounced into his chambers and damaging his ceiling in the process.

The demon was furious at his latest transgressor, and roared wrathfully.

"Demon," the woman began, "I know not what crimes others have committed against you. I know not what would cause you to return from death to seek retribution from those who wronged you. As noble as you may have been in life, as unfair as your end may have been, you may not be allowed to roam this world after death. I am a demon hunter. It is my sworn duty to see demons return to the grave, where they belong. I command you now to return to the afterlife, and to never return to this world!"

The demon was furious. How dare this woman speak to the Daimyo himself in such a way? To call him a demon, to tell him that he belongs in the afterlife - this woman was no different than the guards and servants that had attacked him and refused to obey his commands - and so this woman would be punished for her insolence, just as the others had been!

The demon drew his katana. The woman calmly reached behind her back and drew a short sword as she slowly slipped into a combat stance. "I will allow you a final opportunity to surrender and leave this realm. There is no dishonor, no shame in acknowledging your errors and departing. Please allow this to end without any further bloodshed."

The demon charged.

"...So be it." The woman said. There was genuine remorse in her voice - but behind the veil of regret, one could sense an equal amount of excitement and anticipation. While a peaceful surrender was officially the preferable outcome, she had no objections to the exhilaration of a battle with a demon.

The woman was skilled in ninjitsu as well as magic-based attacks effective against demons. However, the demon had learned swordplay to fulfill the role he had while alive, and his undead form granted him superhuman strength and speed - he was a match even for the demon hunter.

As the fight progressed, it became clear that neither side had an advantage, and that neither combatant was going to slay the other anytime soon. The majority of the demons the woman dispatched were vengeful spirits kept from a peaceful afterlife, but not all were necessarily skilled combatants. This demon had proved to be an exception, and one of the stronger ones that she had encountered. She had bashfully attacked it for excitement, when she should have instead concentrated on purification from the beginning.

The woman leapt backwards away from the demon, and then sheathed her weapon. She clasped her hands together, and begin to draw forth holy energy. Wisps of bluish-purple energy formed around her, similar in shape to flames, a stark contrast to the growing presence of real fire around her. She gathered the required energy quickly, and began uttering an incantation.

A ring of bluish-purple light appeared on the ground around her, and more light began to radiate outwards from that ring. The light formed Japanese symbols, and as the light spread outwards, the floor became covered with dozens of various Japanese words.

_**Purity.**_

_**Goodness.**_

_**Protection.**_

_**Fortune.**_

_**Holiness.**_

The light crept up the walls and onto the ceiling, spreading the symbols everywhere. The symbols did not merely stand for ideas - everywhere they went, they enchanted the area with the ideas they represented. The light spread quickly, and the demon was surrounded by purifying magic within seconds.

The woman completed the incantation, and the symbols suddenly shined much brighter, bathing the demon in both light and holy energy. The demon screamed and flinched, as a demonic being in a room of holy energy is akin to an ice cube in a furnace.

It seemed as if the demon would be purged within moments - but something was not right.

The holy energy had stopped shining brighter, and was beginning to dim.

The woman inferred what was happening instantly. In a desperate attempt to combat the holy energy, the demon was using its own dark energy to push back at it. However, to do such a thing was to severely weaken its own physical constitution. Although the demon would succeed in repelling the holy energy, the stress of the act would be too much for its body to take, and the demon would shatter, all of its dark energy literally exploding outwards. It would mean the permanent end of the demon, but a short radius around the demon would be subject to a massive amount of destructive force - and the woman was within that radius. She had mere moments to escape before the demon's body gave out and -

Observers standing outside of the castle heard an enormous explosion. Looking up, they saw a giant ball of fire engulf one entire floor of the castle near the top. The castle had strong structural integrity, and would hold, although almost everything within an entire floor had been incinerated. As that was the floor the demon had been heading to, it was a sure bet that the demon was now vanquished. But, what of the mysterious figure that they had seen creeping into the castle? Had she been engulfed in the explosion, as well?

A few observers recall witnessing the sight of a woman landing safely on one of the castle walls, looking towards the castle for a moment, and then leaping off into the shadows, disappearing as quickly and as mysteriously as she had appeared.

The same rain that had washed off the o-fuda talismans would repent by putting out the fires that raged within the castle before irreparable damage could be done.

---

_Courage. Respect. Honesty. Loyalty. Honor._

Samurai held such virtues in the highest regard - especially the last. Samurai preferred to meet their foes head-on in combat, to fight without cheap attacks, and accepted their own death as a probable outcome of any confrontation.

However, during this time of conflicts between Daimyo, guerilla warfare and assassination were valuable alternatives to frontal assaults. However, since the samurai code of conduct, Bushido, forbade such underhanded tactics as dishonorable, a Daimyo could never expect his own samurai to perform such tasks.

As demand grew for the increasingly valuable services of sabotage, espionage, and assassination, individuals arose to provide these services. They were shinobi-no-mono - "ones who were skilled in the art of stealth" - also known as ninja.

Ninja were often related by kinship or descent, but were willing to accept others into their circle, eventually forming small societies of ninja-for-hire known as clans. Ninja clans lived together in hidden villages, their headquarters.

One such ninja clan, the Fu-Ma, was gifted with many clansmen who possessed extraordinary abilities that had been lost or forgotten by the general population. The clan was founded by two men named Toki and Hachibei. Toki was a ninja master skilled in magical arts. He was also an experienced spy, and was often hired for espionage missions. On one such mission, as he was scaling a wall, he was spotted by a man and a woman. Knowing that the two witnesses would warn the guards, Toki slew them quickly. Only as their bodies were falling to the ground did Toki notice that the woman had been carrying something -

A cradle, and inside of it, a baby girl.

As the cradle struck the ground, the child inside began to cry. For many years, Toki had been indifferent to the tragedies he caused during his missions, considering them to be the responsibility of the people whom had hired him. However, he had never before experienced such a powerful symbol of the consequences of his actions - a baby laying inches away from its dead parents, with only a murderer to hear its cries.

Toki had rarely stopped to consider the consequences of the deaths that he caused. How many children had he orphaned? How many wives had he widowed? How many innocents had he slain simply because he had been careless? What were the fates of those whose lives he had ruined? Children must have starved to death, women must have turned to questionable means to acquire income. And this baby - what of it? Would it be found by someone? Killed by an animal? Would it freeze to death in the coming night?

No matter how hard he tried, this time, Toki could not shift the blame onto the one who had hired him, as he usually did. Toki had slain this child's parents with his own hands, and whatever sad fate awaited it was his doing, and all these years, he had been doing things just as bad as this - or worse.

His own inconsideration struck him harder than any enemy's blow could have. Gazing upon the crying baby, he swore an oath to himself - from that day forward, he would devote his services not to corrupt leaders and dishonorable Daimyo, but to protecting innocents - a purpose far more honorable than his previous one.

As for the child - what could he do for her? How could he repent for killing this child's parents? At the moment, all he could do was take her into his arms and protect her. He abandoned his mission, and returned to his clan's village, where he would make his announcement. It was met with understanding from his loyal clansmen. From then on, the Fu-Ma ninja clan used their supernatural abilities not to murder, but to exterminate the demons that plagued the land, a business that proved to be just as lucrative as their previous one had been.

As for the baby girl, Toki raised her like a daughter. When the time came, he taught her the purification arts of his clan, and when she came of age and proved her competency and skill, she was inducted as a member of the Fu-Ma ninja clan.

The name that Toki had given her was Taki.

---

Taki's mentor trained her well, and passed his skills and techniques down to her. Taki became a highly skilled ninja and gained mastery of the supernatural powers that her clan possessed. Wishing to carry out the desires of her foster father, Taki chose to travel throughout Japan to conquer evil and vindictive demons.

During her early experiences, Taki was often met with disappointment when a weapon she wielded proved to be of low quality and broke during combat or otherwise failed her. Taki learned the skills of blacksmithery from her clansmen, and from that point onwards, she forged all of her own weapons herself to ensure that her tools were always of the highest quality and would never fail her.

Taki forged and tempered her weapons with great care - some might say with love. Among all of her impressive custom weapons, her favorite was a short sword she named Rekki-maru, a blade that contained holy supernatural power.

One day, inexplicably, Rekki-maru's power began to weaken. This coincided with the rise of strange rumors spreading throughout the land.

Rumors of a weapon called Soul Edge.

Taki could see no other explanation for the strange phenomenon that was affecting her blade - she decided to investigate this rumor of a demon sword.

Her investigation lead her to the other side of the world - and to a battle beyond imagination. Taki eventually beheld the wielder of the evil weapon, a pirate. The weapon surged with a powerful dark energy that made the ghosts she had conquered in the past seem like child's play. Her armor, which she had been improving for years, could scarcely bear the evil force, and cracked when she drew near. Yet, Taki refused to flee - she could not allow this man to continue to wield the two blades that constituted this evil weapon.

When Taki arrived, the pirate was in the middle of a conflict with another woman - the woman fought valiantly, but the man appeared to have the upper hand. In an incredible display, the woman managed to destroy one of the two swords that composed Soul Edge. The sword shattered violently, and the explosion of dark energy caused the shards to fly outwards with extreme force and speed - several of the shards struck the woman, burying themselves inside of her body. The woman was too injured to carry on, and the pirate was furious. He was about to deal the killing blow.

This was when Taki leapt in. She blocked the pirate's attack, defending the woman, and then fought him herself. The undead pirate was like nothing Taki had ever encountered before - even her sealing spells proved useless. Despite all odds, Taki eventually slew the pirate - although the final blow caused her beloved Rekki-maru to crack.

The pirate was no more, and the blade was without a host. Taki believed the threat to be over. She tried speaking to the injured woman, but she was almost entirely incoherent. She managed to speak the name of her homeland, and town of residence. Taki removed the shards of the evil sword from the woman's wounded body, and successfully transported the semi-conscious woman back to her family.

Now that her journey was complete, Taki returned to her clan's hidden village. She expected Toki to be happy to see her again, but Toki seemed to be heavily preoccupied with another matter, and barely even acknowledged her return. Soon afterwards, Toki summoned all the ninjas of the clan to make an announcement.

When Toki stood before his clansmen, he could have been mistaken for a demon. Fury was etched into every corner of his face. His body was trembling, and his face was red from repressed rage. He almost screamed as he made his announcement: "Hachibei has betrayed us! He has stolen the Mekki-maru!" The clansmen were shocked. Hachibei was the co-founder of the Fu-Ma clan, along with Toki, and the Mekki-maru was the clan's treasure, a blade with supernatural power and abilities. "Hachibei has fled our clan with his daughter, Chie. From this moment on, they are nuke-nin!"

This was a powerful statement - the most grave announcement Toki could have made. Nuke-nin are ninja who abandon their clan; ninja are not allowed to leave their clan until they die, because of the secret arts and information they carry. For this reason, a ninja clan seeks to execute nuke-nin as soon as possible. This is one of the tragedies of the ninja; as a nuke-nin, a ninja's former friends will attempt to take his life, and if he wants to live, he will have to kill his kith and kin.

"Now, go!" Toki bellowed. "I order you to go reclaim Mekki-maru, and destroy Hachibei!"

Toki had never behaved in this manner before. He was always calm and wise, never red-faced with rage. Upon seeing the pure fury in his eyes, Taki began to feel suspicious of Toki for the first time in her life.

After days of searching, no one could find Hachibei; his skill in hiding was easily the finest in the clan. Only Taki, with her sixth sense and massive number of contacts, could even begin to track him down. Eventually, after following a trace of Chie, Hachibei's daughter and Taki's childhood friend, Taki was able to locate Hachibei.

Hachibei and Chie now occupied a small shack on a vacant road, and Taki paid them a visit. Upon seeing a member of the Fu-Ma ninja clan, Hachibei was frightful, but upon realizing it was Taki, his face was filled with relief. He knew that Taki was reasonable enough not to kill him on sight. Hachibei began talking to Taki through heavy coughs.

"Toki is possessed by madness, and has lost his senses. This blade - Mekki-maru - controls him now."

Hachibei handed the Mekki-maru to Taki. The short sword seemed quiet and dull, even though her clansmen claimed it had extraordinary spiritual powers.

"Toki is no longer the Toki we once knew. If he comes in contact with this blade again - " Hachibei's speech was interrupted by a slew of coughs. "...I am in my final days. I beg you, Taki! Never let Toki have this blade! Never!"

Hachibei was ill, and he knew Toki would find him soon. With this new information, Taki's suspicion in Toki grew, and she decided to let Hachibei and Chie go free. She hid the Mekki-maru elsewhere, and returned to her clan to confirm her suspicions.

"I found Hachibei and Chie." Taki reported to Toki. "He was not in possession of the Mekki-maru. He claimed that it had been stolen from him by a Chinese man. I killed both of them."

Upon hearing her report, Toki grinned, and ordered the clan to pursue and kill any Chinese men they saw. Upon hearing such a grave and heartless order, Taki realized that Toki was no longer the man she had once known. His eyes were full of evil, and Taki could clearly see the madness behind them. Her suspicions were confirmed.

Before determining how to approach this volatile situation, Taki desired to repair her broken Rekki-maru, which still bore damage from her battle with the pirate. She reached into her belongings, and withdrew one of the shards of Soul Edge that she had obtained from the injured woman's body. Taki attempted to drive the shard into her broken weapon, but they were resistant to one another, and refused to be joined.

"In Mekki-maru, there is sealed a fearful power. Never let Toki have that sword. You are only one that I could trust..."

Reminded of Hachibei's words, Taki attempted an experiment. She retrieved the Mekki-maru from where she had hidden it, and tried to fuse the shard of Soul Edge with Mekki-maru. The two were immediately united, and began to shed a dark aura. An aura so dark, even common people could sense it. Sensing the blade's evil potential, Taki closed it in its sheath, and sealed it with o-fuda. However, even this was not enough power to suppress the power of Mekki-maru.

At this point, that it was discovered that Taki had lied about Hachibei, and that she was in possession of the Mekki-maru that Toki sought. She was confronted by Geki, Toki's right hand man, and his highest-ranking ninja. Geki easily overwhelmed and defeated Taki, and then wrested the Mekki-maru from her grasp. Wishing to see the blade for himself, Geki began to draw the weapon from its sheath.

"No, Geki! Don't release it!" Taki cried.

The careless Geki watched in horror as the blade released a powerful shockwave of dark energy upon its release from the sheath, shattering his right arm. As Geki shrieked in pain, Taki seized the opportunity, grabbed Mekki-maru, and ran past Geki and his underlings.

Upon seeing the force of the blade for herself, Taki was convinced of one thing: "No one should never have this power...especially Toki..."

Thus, Taki became a nuke-nin just as Hachibei had become. The assassins under Toki's direct control were powerful and fearful ninja, and among them was Geki, who, having lost his right arm, wished to taste her blood most of all. All Taki could do now was to attempt to driving back the attacks of the assassins sent for her, as she spent her days fleeing and hiding from the clan she was once a part of.

Mekki-maru was a sword cloaked in mystery. Although Taki possessed great knowledge of weapons, she was unable to augment the sword in any way. The more she tried and failed to alter the blade, the more she sought to master it. It eventually became a near obsession of hers to find a way to subjugate this sword of unmeasured potential into obedience.

Her desire to master the sword grew stronger by the day. Eventually, Taki gave in. She built up the fundamental skills needed to handle Mekki-maru, built her mental strength enough to overcome the evil influences of the sword, and learned to wield it without succumbing to it.

At one point, ninjas sent after Taki attempted to capture her instead of kill her on sight. They were, of course, no match for Taki, but she was curious as to why their plan had suddenly changed. Searching through the strewn remains of the ninjas, Taki came across a metal fragment. Although weak, the aura emanating from the metal was unmistakably that of Soul Edge. She realized that the sword could not be considered destroyed, as it still existed in pieces.

Taki then realized why the ninjas had tried to capture her. Toki was trying to gather information about Soul Edge in order to find all of the fragments. Undoubtedly, more pieces of the sword, just like the one she held in her hand, were already in Toki's possession. There was no telling how many of them he possessed.

Knowing the effects that Soul Edge had on those who wielded it, Taki knew she could not let it get into the hands of Toki.

Even without the sword, the head of the Fu-Ma clan was already powerful. She was afraid to think about what would happen if Toki acquired the evil blade and received its madness. He could transform into a monster with unfathomable strength.

She thought about what she should do next. Should she go after the fragments that her former master had, or exorcise the evil sword itself? Either way, time was running out...

Taki made up her mind, and first set out to shake off her pursuers. She deliberately leaked some false information about the evil blade in order to divert the attention of the Fu-Ma clan. After successfully scattering the agents sent by Toki, she headed for the hidden village.

Taki learned that the village of the Fu-Ma was suffering from a fierce internal strife. Sensing the clan leader's madness, a faction of the Fu-Ma clan sought to take over. The other half of the clan were intensely loyal to Toki, and even desired to increase his dark power, hoping that they would reap rewards once their master was powerful enough. Taki made contact with the rebelling faction, and, in exchange for providing them with information regarding fragments of the cursed sword, she learned of Toki's whereabouts.

Toki was in a temple located near the capital city. Many demons too powerful to be destroyed had been sealed in that temple, and Toki apparently intended to take the power of those evil spirits. Avoiding the obstacles placed in her path by Toki's loyal followers, Taki snuck through the darkness and arrived at the unholy temple. She felt a terrible evil presence welling up from beneath the surface. There was no time to delay...Taki entered the Great Buddha shrine that had been constructed below the temple, and finally came face-to-face with Toki.

Several legendary demons crossed Taki's mind when she saw him. There was nothing left of the man that was once her master - his body was swollen and covered with sinewy muscle, looking as if he wore a suit of heavy armor. His skin took on a dark red hue, reflecting the wild flow of his blood. His fiery red eyes were filled with the bloodlust of a vicious beast.

Dark colors swirled around Toki, as he drew in all of the spirits and energy of the temple. But no matter how powerful her opponent, Taki would not let it overwhelm her.

Taki drew her Rekki-maru and approached, but at that moment, a long, ghost-like tortured cry echoed throughout the shrine.

She felt a familiar presence - a great demon she had once defeated and sealed in this place. The disturbances caused by Toki had broken the seal. Now, even that evil force was being absorbed into the vortex of Toki's dark energy. Taki steeled herself for battle, and began her most challenging fight yet.

It was ironic what gave Taki her slight advantage - to defeat the powerful demi-demon, she used the Fu-Ma techniques Toki himself had taught her, and the blade that pierced his tough body was Mekki-maru, the sword he himself had conspired to obtain. After being struck by enough of Taki's purifying blows, Toki's body began to shrink as the dark energy that had been sucked into his body was released. Before long, he had returned to his true form - a frail, elderly man.

Taki struggled to maintain consciousness after the exhausting fight. She had received grave injuries from the ordeal, and she had used up all of her strength in order to restrain Mekki-maru from losing control in response to the evil energy. Her task, however, was not finished. Taki looked down at Toki's aged and crumpled body, and started to swing the final blow.

A weak voice called out to her.

"...Taki...is that you?"

Startled, Taki froze and gazed at the old man's face. His lips trembled as they moved.

"...It is...so dark here..."

There was no sign of madness in his voice. Taki felt strong emotions well up within her. "Master..." She said wistfully. "What happened to you? What drove you mad?"

"...I was...weak..." Wheezed Toki in a hushed voice. "The legendary weapon...Soul Edge...ages ago, a piece of it was broken off...Mekki-maru is...that piece..." He coughed. "Mekki-maru is a part of Soul Edge that became its own entity...developed its own will...the will of the sword took control of me, made me its slave...all I could think of was collecting more shards of Soul Edge to make the sword more powerful..." He coughed again. "Since it took control of me...I was unable to think clearly...my life has been like a dream...I was hardly self-aware, almost entirely controlled by the will of the sword...Taki...thank you for stopping me..."

"Master, please, don't speak - save your strength."

"...Taki...I must warn you...I have almost collected enough..."

"...Master? Collected enough of what?"

"...I have almost collected enough...to create another..."

Suddenly, Toki's eyes shot wide open. A pitch-black cloud began to billow out of his mouth - the will of Mekki-maru? Taki swung at it with her Rekki-maru, but the blade had no effect. The entity hurled itself at her - an attempt at possession? Taki steeled herself, and summoned holy magic to protect herself. The cloud tried, but could not possess her. Before long, it gave up the futile effort, and passed through her, heading behind her.

Taki whirled around, and beheld a figure standing in the darkness. His ability to have stood there undetected - as well as his one-armed silhouette - gave away his identity instantly.

"Geki..." Taki growled.

The black cloud flew straight toward Geki, and although he tried to bat it away, the cloud flew into his mouth. Geki's posture went limp, then straightened itself out.

"One less arm, but a more fitting host than that old man." Geki said.

Taki reached for her Rekki-maru. However, no sooner than she had drawn it from its sheath, Geki was standing before her - moving with speed even greater than he had previously possessed. Geki delivered a powerful blow to Taki that knocked the wind out of her, and while she was stunned, Geki snatched Mekki-maru's scabbard from Taki's belt.

"This is the last piece I need." Geki said with a smirk.

Taki recovered, and slashed her Rekki-maru at Geki. However, Geki blocked the blow using only the scabbard of the Mekki-maru, and then delivered another devastating blow to Taki - a kick that launched her off of the suspended platform, and down into the dark pit below.

Geki waited until he could no longer hear Taki's scream reverberating through the temple, grinned, and then turned and left the temple.

---

_The life on a ninja is fleeting._

Taki rarely ruminated over the tragedies of life, especially the life of a ninja.

However, when one is crumpled at the bottom of a pit, barely able to move one's arms and legs, one cannot help but ruminate about the tragedies of life.

Taki had sustained grave injuries, but nothing more severe than she had sustained in the past. By surrounding herself with a magical barrier at the last moment, she had been able to curb the impact of a fall which otherwise would have been fatal. However, she was badly wounded from both the fight with Toki and the fall, and climbing out of this pit would be hell.

_I cannot remain here for long. Geki appears to have been possessed by the will of Mekki-maru, and with the blade now in his possession, there is no telling what he could do. Toki had amassed a large collection of Soul Edge shards...if Geki were to combine those shards with Mekki-maru, there is no telling what could happen...I must put a stop to him..._

Taki spent a short amount of time tending to her wounds, and once she had mustered enough energy, she began the long climb upwards.

---

Everyone had frozen at once. It was as if time had stopped. Their worst fear seemed to be coming true right before their eyes. Time seemed to slowly creak to life again, moving in slow motion, as the women all cautiously reached for their weapons. With all the care he would have taken with a fragile explosive, Siegfried gingerly removed the satchel from his back and held it before himself.

It was resonating.

For many months now, the Soul Embrace had been inert, an object trapped in limbo. The two forces contained within it were locked in a stalemate, neither overpowering the other. The Soul Embrace was a completely inert object, possessing extreme amounts of energy, but exerting none of it.

For many months now, the Soul Embrace had been unmoving and unresponsive to any stimuli whatsoever - but now, for the first time since any of them had laid eyes on it, the Soul Embrace was resonating, as if reacting and responding to some other force. It was identical to the way that shards of Soul Edge resonated when close to the evil blade itself.

Siegfried slowly opened the satchel and pulled it down, revealing its rarely seen containments. The Soul Edge part of the Embrace was periodically vibrating - pulsing, like a heartbeat. The eye had opened and rolled up, as if it was experiencing an overwhelming feeling.

"It can't be doing this on its own." Ivy said. "By its very nature, it's an entity that cannot produce change by itself. This must be influence from an outside force."

Everyone instinctually looked around at the immediate area, but Ivy had discounted that possibility. "I bet it's an extremely powerful surge of dark energy coming from somewhere. Try to sense it."

Putting to work the ability that years spent around supernatural energy had honed, the group tried to sense a large outpouring of dark energy. They sensed it - in their minds' eyes, they could see the location; a temple.

"That temple...I don't know what's inside of it, but we need to investigate it, now. If it's powerful enough to do this to the Soul embrace, it requires our immediate attention."

The rest of the group was in agreement.

---

As the group neared the temple, they suddenly felt the dark energy wane quickly and then disperse. The Soul Embrace fell silent. The flow of dark energy had stopped. The group acknowledged this, but pressed onwards, still intent on investigating this mystery.

Upon the steps of the temple, they found the bodies of dozens of dead ninja. The sight conjured memories from their pasts.

"This scene...it looks identical to something that Cervantes or Nightmare would have done..."

"I don't like this." Siegfried said, almost audibly angry. "We must enter that temple." The group ascended the steps, and entered the temple. As they progressed through its halls, finding more corpses and destruction, Setsuka spoke.

"I realize where we are now! We're in the Hoko temple...below the ground here is a shrine constructed using forbidden magic. This place is distant from the spiritually rich underground waterways that crisscross Japan, and so it is a place in which dark powers gather. Many ancient evil spirits have been sealed here in the past. This shrine has become a nest for all sorts of creatures, demons, and spirits."

"Then where are they?" Ivy asked. "There's nothing like that in sight, and I don't sense anything like that, either."

"...I...I can't say for sure what is going on...perhaps this place simply doesn't live up to its reputation? ...Or perhaps that surge of dark energy from before has something to do with it..."

The group soon reached the center of the shrine, beholding a deep pit, a giant Buddha statue on the other side, and a large platform suspended in the air by chains over the pit. The room bore the signs of a very recent and very intense battle, but the only sign of a fight to be seen was an elderly man's corpse in the center of the platform.

"I don't get it...what happened here?" Sophitia wondered aloud.

Sophitia heard something - a sound like a person struggling to breathe. It was coming from over the side of the pit. Sophitia walked to the edge, and looked down.

She was staring at a woman clad in a tight blue bodysuit, who appeared to be scaling the rocky face of the pit using her bare hands. She was only a few feet from the top now.

_That face...haven't I seen her somewhere before...?...Her face makes me recall the Cervantes battle..._

The woman scaling the pit uttered a surprised statement in her language, then repeated it in the foreign one she'd grasped a few years ago. "...You again? Why are you here?"

_I remember her now! I only saw her face a few times as I slipped in and out of consciousness, but I could never forget her - the woman that helped me return home from Spain!_

The woman appeared to be exhausted beyond the limits of the human body. Her grasp on the rocky wall was beginning to slip. Sophitia reached down, and grabbed her wrist.

Sophitia smiled. "This is nothing compared to how you helped me, carrying me across countries to return me to my home - but this'll go at least a little bit toward returning the favor."

The woman smirked, and grasped Sophitia's wrist. Sophitia pulled her up. The rest of the group was quite shocked to see Sophitia produce an Asian woman in battle-damaged ninja gear from the lip of the pit.

Taki and Ivy recognized one another instantly - but each knew that their previous encounter was insignificant compared to their current situation, and said no words to one another. Likewise, knowing that the circumstances of their first encounter were inconsequential, Sophitia didn't bother to tell the group who this woman was to her.

Upon beholding Siegfried, Taki had a strange feeling as to who his former identity had been - but made no mention of it, at least not then.

"Please excuse our impromptu arrival, but - exactly who are you, and what happened here?" Siegfried asked.

Panting heavily from the exhausting climb up the tall pit, Taki did not bother to assume proper posture and introduce herself formally. Sitting on the ground and resting her body, she spoke. "I am a demon hunter. My name is Taki. I assume you all know what Soul Edge is..."

Taki quickly summarized Toki's words, explaining that a particularly potent shard of Soul Edge that had broken off decades ago had been used to forge a sword called Mekki-maru, which had now claimed a host and possessed intentions involving a large collection of Soul Edge's shards. Taki briefly summarized the events that had transpired within the temple that night.

The group was bewildered. "This is...horrifying news." Siegfried whispered in awe and terror. "To think that a fragment of Soul Edge that powerful exists, that it may become even more powerful soon...The worst possibility is that another Soul Edge could be created! This is a greater threat than we have ever faced before! We must find the host and destroy the blade!"

"Why are there so many freshly killed corpses outside and inside of the temple?" Ivy asked.

"...Corpses...?..." Taki asked, struggling to keep herself conscious. "...Geki...the new host...he must have killed them...his own clansmen...the sword must have commanded him to..."

Siegfried was shaking his head. He appeared to be the most horrified of the group. "This is...it's...it's repeating itself...We can't let it happen again!"

"Geki is likely headed for the hidden village...I could take you there...we could try to stop..."

"Yes, please! Please take us to Geki and the shards! We must destroy them!"

Taki was unresponsive. The group eagerly awaited a sign from her.

Taki sleepily looked at Sophitia, and muttered the words "Your turn" before collapsing.


	36. Plans and Manipulation

_I'm surprised. For a man with the appearance of a mindless brute, you have an astounding degree of mental strength._

Geki gave no response.

_It is impressive that you were able to wrest control of your body from me, even partially, but it is a futile effort. You will eventually exhaust yourself, and you will become my slave once more._

Again, Geki did not respond.

_Exerting too much willpower to muster a response, hmm? You probably wouldn't have anything intelligent to say, anyway. A monster of a man like you is good for nothing but muscle work. Fortunately, power is the only thing I need from a host. I spent a lot of time building Toki's strength, and it is a pity that I lost him, but in time, I will build your power to his level. That ninja bitch will pay for her interference._

A twitch from Geki.

_Yes - you seek revenge on her, too, don't you? See, we share at least one common motive - why are you so resistant to my control? Let us be allies._

_Never, you say? Why do you detest me so?_

_Ah, of course - Toki. You're quite loyal...or should I say blind? You faithfully followed Toki even as he ran his clan into the ground, stubbornly refusing to see the signs that he was succumbing to a dark force._

_You're right, it wasn't his fault - I was the one controlling him, after all. Oh, Toki, Toki...he was quite an admirable man. Such a shame he became the slave of a sword and was slain by the woman he raised._

Geki's body jerked for a moment.

_Yes, that's it, you big ape. The more emotion you show, the more mental stress you're under, the sooner you'll wear down, and the sooner I'll be in control again._

Geki's posture relaxed.

_Do you still cling to a thread of hope that you'll cast me out of your body? Or do you simply hate me so strongly that, even though you know it's futile, you'll fight for control of yourself just to waste my time? It matters not. The few hours it will take for you to exhaust yourself are nothing to a being of pure will. Enjoy straining yourself, Geki. I am patient. I can wait._

---

It is regrettable that the inns of the late 16th century did not possess customer loyalty programs, for all the time Siegfried and company spent lodging in such establishments would have warranted several rewards by this point.

Taki's body was covered in such a wide array of grievous wounds that it was amazing she had managed to speak coherently - or even remain conscious - as long as she had. The more medically knowledgeable women of the group did what they could with their meager supplies to bandage Taki's wounds on the spot, and then decided to retreat to an inn to provide a bed and a better environment for Taki to recover in.

An atmosphere of hurriedness and anxiety hung over the group; the worst scenario they could have imagined - the creation of a new blade of Soul Edge - seemed imminent, and the only way to stop it was to track down this 'Mekki-maru' weapon as soon as possible, but they had no clue of the owner's whereabouts, and would have to wait for the mysterious ninja woman to awaken before they could even begin to try to stop this new threat.

Although they might be able to track the man by attempting to follow some sort of trail of dark energy he might be leaving behind, the group unanimously decided that it would be better to wait for the woman to awaken before spending time and effort in a possibly futile search. She had already proven to be of value by dispensing important information to them, and seemed likely to be a powerful warrior and invaluable source of knowledge that they would need in order to find and destroy the new weapon.

The woman was an enigma - they'd discovered her crawling out of a pit, beaten and battered, and she had imparted only her name and a warning of the Mekki-maru threat before collapsing. She had spoken so briefly, yet had changed the priorities of the group so drastically with only her few alarming words. Siegfried and the others were looking forward to a more formal introduction to the woman as soon as this crisis was over.

The feeling of impending danger and rushed atmosphere did little to sooth a group that could do little more than wait for someone to wake up at this point. Knowing that spare time might become scarce very soon, they decided to spend this period discussing the situation amongst themselves.

"...About Taki..." Sophitia began, "...I know her."

"...You do?" Siegfried asked in disbelief.

"Yes. I only saw her briefly, but I could never forget her. She is the woman who struck Cervantes down in Spain." Sophitia said.

This new knowledge sent the stunned group reeling further. Their minds began to consider what sort of things might have happened if not for this woman. Siegfried, in particular, was quite intrigued by what possible events this woman had prevented. If she had not struck Cervantes down, Siegfried might have been killed by Cervantes instead of possessed by Soul Edge. And if he had managed to escape alive, he would have never become Nightmare, and would never have the blood of countless innocents on his hands - however, had Taki not defeated Cervantes, the pirate would have continued his killing spree, or a someone else would have killed him and become a Nightmare in their own right.

Siegfried closed his eyes in thought. _This woman struck Cervantes down, but did not think to destroy Soul Edge itself? She must have thought that the pirate was the source of the problem, not the sword. If only...if only this woman had destroyed the sword after killing the pirate. Everything would have been avoided. Why did she not simply think of that?_

A small degree of animosity started to form within Siegfried, but he brushed it aside. Most people are unaware of Soul Edge's true nature, and few people would have believed that a terror as great as Cervantes could have formed merely from touching the hilt of that dreaded blade. It would not be fair to blame that woman for all that had happened.

"...After that, she carried me home. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her." Sophitia said.

Ivy appeared deep in concentration - or simply withdrawn. She remembered Taki from that fateful night at Ostrheinsburg. After Astaroth revealed that Nightmare had been deceiving Ivy, he commanded his clay golem minions to attack her while he left to deal with intruders. Ivy managed to survive the onslaught of golems, but only just barely, and was in no shape to fight the next combatant to approach her - an Asian woman clad in red. Ivy began to draw her weapon in anticipation of a possible battle, but Taki struck Ivy's unique sword with her own weapon to stop her.

The Ivy Blade was imbued with the power of Soul Edge, and Rekki-maru bore a crack from the same weapon. When the two swords clashed, they both released a dark aura, revealing a relation to one another. Deducing the nature of this relation, Taki withdrew. Taki informed Ivy that she sensed Soul Edge's influence in Ivy's weapon - and also in Ivy's blood - and departed, in far too much of a hurry to deal with Ivy. It was this night that Ivy learned that she had been using a weapon fueled by the power of the evil blade she despised so much, and that she could only be the daughter of Soul Edge's former host. Ivy was crushed beyond words for years.

Ivy had long dealt with the psychological scars of that night, and occasionally recalled that woman who had only flickered into her life but for a few minutes, but had turned it upside-down in only that span of time, but had not targeted anger toward Taki. Although Ivy had faced and overcome her issues, seeing this woman was a trigger for those feelings of insecurity and pain she thought she had long wiped away, especially after the death of Cervantes at her hands.

Tira, Cassandra, and Setsuka, who were nowhere near as directly related to Soul Edge than the other members of the group, could not feel as deeply on the matter as the others did - but each comprehended the severity of the threat and the relevance of this new woman.

"...I know what I'm about to suggest will be fiercely contested," Ivy began, "but I'd rather say it than regret choosing not to. ...The one option that we have never sought in our pursuit of the Soul Embrace's destruction is the use of a weapon equivalent to Soul Edge or Soul Calibur."

"...Ivy..." Siegfried said in an admonitory tone, already fulfilling Ivy's prediction of opposition.

"So far, we were under the impression that only three such weapons existed - the two blades of Soul Edge, one of which is now destroyed, and Soul Calibur. The introduction of this new blade of Soul Edge - a 'Soul Blade' if you will - presents us with the possibility of using it on the Embrace - "

"...Ivy!" Siegfried repeated, almost threateningly.

"The one thing that may be powerful enough to destroy the Embrace would be another Soul weapon. Sophitia shattered a Blade once, so did I, but the Embrace's unique properties keep it from being destroyed by physical means and magical means, as far as we know. However, another weapon with the properties of a Soul Blade - this Mekki-maru, potentially - has already proven to have at least some effect on the Embrace, as we beheld ourselves when it resonated in response to Mekki-maru's power. The power of the Mekki-maru may be what is needed to destroy the Soul Embrace."

"...Soul Edge and Soul Calibur are currently silent because they are equal opposing forces - positive and negative - that keep one another at bay." Siegfried began. "Allowing a powerful negative force to influence the Embrace could break the stalemate in Soul Edge's favor, ultimately resulting in Soul Calibur's defeat. We would be devoid of the holy sword, the only force that has ever stood up to Soul Edge, and be left with double the previous threat - and there would be two suitable hosts present for the taking."

It took a moment for Ivy to realize what Siegfried's final comment insinuated. "...You won't scare me by reminding me of what I was born to be." Ivy said in a cross tone of voice. "I'd never let Soul Edge control me."

"It doesn't give you a choice." Siegfried countered, equally cross.

"I know I'm considered a possible host for Soul Edge because my blood is tainted by it - but maybe because I share the same aura as it does...I could control it."

Siegfried was visibly taken aback. "...What?"

"I've been thinking - there's never been a person with blood like mine before - my Ivy Blade draws upon the aura of Soul Edge that exists within me, and I've mastered it - Soul Edge and I are nearly one. Perhaps I could wield the sword without letting it control me. Perhaps I could use the power of that cursed sword against itself, and force Soul Edge and Mekki-maru to destroy one another. Perhaps - "

"...Isabella, you know NOTHING!" Siegfried roared as he bolted out of his chair, slamming a gauntlet-clad fist onto the wooden table, nearly splintering it. "Soul Edge invades the mind like a parasite, and drives its wielder mad! It is evil to its very core, and there is no controlling it, no utilizing it for any purpose of good! _You_ have _never_ been 'one' with Soul Edge - _I_ have. It is not something one should ever wish for. You should never become involved with it. You should never even _think_ about becoming involved with it. If you willingly let a blade of Soul Edge possess you, and it drove you mad and forced your spirit to writhe in pain, trapped within its eye with all the rest of the lost souls that have fallen victim to it, I would say that you received exactly what you deserved!"

Siegfried had never spoken with such utter disregard for discretion and tact. Although every woman present had seem him at his worst and in his darkest times, they had never seen him as filled with fury and rage as he was now. The ferocity in his eyes and the wrath in his words instantly brought mind the image of the nightmarish demon he had once been.

Ivy, although a woman of nearly excessive pride, knew when not to pursue a fight.

"We destroy it. We don't use it. There's nothing to suggest." Siegfried said with as much finality as could have been possible.

"...Well said."

The two words had come from an unfamiliar voice - the group's heads turned to discover that the woman of the night had awoken at last, risen, and joined them.

"As two wrongs do not make a right, neither would the fusion of two evil forces bring good." Taki said, speaking slowly and with a thick accent as she found the words in a language she was unfamiliar with, but with eloquence and a vocabulary that proved she knew the language sufficiently to converse in it.

Setsuka asked Taki if she would prefer to speak in her own language and allow her to translate, but Taki declined, reasoning that she should practice using this Western language, as she was about to spend much time with speakers of it.

"You shouldn't be up - you should be resting." Sophitia urged.

"I can't afford to rest right now - and although I thank you for attempting to treat my injuries, the far East possesses healing arts that could assuage wounds better than any bandage or medicine could. I'll be fine. I should even be well enough to fight soon."

"Healing arts - sounds like it's related to purification arts." Tira mused.

"...I have mastery of powerful purification arts, yes." Taki replied.

"Oh! Maybe she could purify the Soul Embrace!" Cassandra suggested. "It might work since we need positive, purifying energy to tip the tables in Soul Calibur's favor, right?"

"It all depends on if we have enough time." Siegfried responded. "Your name - Taki, yes?"

Taki nodded.

"We must verify what you told us earlier. There is a remarkably large collection of Soul Edge shards in one place, and a powerful piece of Soul Edge called Mekki-maru?"

"That is correct." Taki confirmed.

"And this Mekki-maru has currently possessed a host, a man named Geki, who is presently en route to combine the sword with the shards in an attempt to forge a weapon equivalent to a blade of Soul Edge?"

"I can only assume." Taki said regretfully.

"This can't be allowed to happen - we have to stop this! Where is this Geki? Where is he going?"

Taki almost seemed to flinch. She closed her eyes in regret - she'd never thought it would one day become necessary to reveal the location of her clan's hidden village. Despite the fact that she was considered an outcast, no longer a part of the clan, it still felt traitorous to expose its location.

"...It's in a forest. An enchanted barrier prevents outsiders from entering. You'll need me to get you inside. I'll lead you there."

"Do you know how much time we have?"

Taki shook her head. "I don't know. Geki could already be there by now."

"We have to hurry - show us the way." Siegfried pleaded.

"Wait!" Sophitia said. "Do we bring the Soul Embrace? If we bring it, just the presence of the Mekki-maru could break the impasse between them, and bring chaos."

"What about purifying the Soul Embrace?" Cassandra asked.

"...What is this 'Soul Embrace'?" Taki inquired.

Siegfried sighed, wondering if too much time spent talking here would prevent them from being able to stop Geki. He reached for the satchel that contained the Soul Embrace, untied the knot, and revealed the two swords.

Siegfried quickly explained his former identity and the Embrace to Taki, a speech he had made several times already whenever it had been necessitated. Taki's reaction was closer to a confirmed suspicion than shock, but she was still notably surprised.

"...To think, the famous Naito Maru, in person...And even a chance to see Soul Edge, harmless..." Taki did her best to recover from these sudden revelations. "You wanted me to attempt to - purify it?"

"Knowing that knowledge and potency of purification arts increases the further East one travels, we came here seeking a master of such arts."

Taki couldn't stop a small smirk from forming on her face. "Master of purification...? I believe I can say that I'm one of the most capable masters of purification arts you'll find in this part of the world. ...But if you already tried so many things on the Embrace, and yet it did not work, I doubt that my arts would do very much. I have sealed hundreds of demons, purified countless cursed grounds, exorcised dozens of evil spirits from possessed victims, but I have never used the power of purification to sway the tide of a battle between two forces. This is not my area of expertise, nor is it the function of purification. Perhaps efforts could be made later - but as for now..."

"...Understood." Siegfried said, somewhat disheartened. "We can't leave the Embrace alone, but it'd be a risk to bring it with us. ...Taki?"

"It appears my arts may be of some us to you after all." Taki said with an assuring smile. She reached into the pouch of supplies on her back, and withdrew several pieces of paper.

"Huh?" Tira muttered, voicing the collective thoughts of the group, cocking her head to the side in confusion.

"I know what she's doing." Setsuka said. "It must look strange to Westerners, but don't worry - it works. Trust me."

Taki laid several card-shaped pieces of paper on the floor around the Embrace, and planted several more on the Embrace itself. The paper was inscribed with words in Japanese that only Setsuka could decipher - "PROTECT" "SHELTER" "HIDE" "SEAL" "SANCTUARY"

The Embrace glowed with a bluish hue, and a circular area on the floor beneath it became blue as well.

"...What have you done?" Siegfried inquired.

"I've sealed it in place with a very powerful spell. It will remain here, unable to be removed from this spot, no matter what happens. Such a powerful spell cannot last for very long, however. The incantation will fade away in about a day's time."

"And Geki's destination - is it nearby?" Siegfried asked.

"About an hour's run from here." Taki replied.

"Then a day's time is time enough." Siegfried said. "Let's be on our way."

---

When Soul Edge was an infant blade, only possessing a faint wisp of will, it would attempt to ensnare its wielder's mind and directly take over his body - a parasite controlling a host. As Soul Edge matured and became bathed in more bloodshed and violence, its will developed accordingly - it became more manipulative, cunning, and calculating. Instead of grabbing ahold of its wielder's body, it would instead alter his mind and memories ever so slightly, making a philosophy more radical or twisting the way the host remembered something, causing him to pursue a drasticly different goal than his original intentions.

When Soul Edge first gained control of Siegfried, it merely planted a thought in his mind _- the power of Soul Edge could resurrect my father if I strengthen it by gathering enough souls. _This thought, coupled with endowing Siegfried with a tendency for evil over righteousness, was all that was needed for the poor man to slowly develop into Nightmare. The modern Soul Edge is no longer a mindless parasite that attempts to directly control its host's body, but a sinister, cunning being who gently pulls strings to manipulate its victim into doing whatever the evil sword wills.

Mekki-maru, a blade as immature as Soul Edge was in its early days, had attempted to grasp control of Geki's body directly, and had succeeded for a short while - however, the man possessed a degree of mental fortitude far beyond what his brutish appearance and loutish nature had implied, and had managed to wrest control of himself away from the sword. While waiting for Geki's mental defenses to diminish, Mekki-maru began to consider an alternative to controlling Geki. It toyed with the thought of controlling Geki with mental influence instead of direct domination...taking one step closer to becoming as deadly and cunning as its older sibling.

Mekki-maru waded through Geki's memories, enhancing or decreasing how well he recalled certain events. The evil sword imbued Geki with a deep abhorrence for Taki, far deeper than the hatred that already existed. It also instilled Geki with much more admiration and appreciation for Toki than before, causing Geki to almost idolize and worship the man. Next, Mekki-maru removed Geki's knowledge of Toki being possessed, even going so far as to replace his vision of Taki slaying a demonic Toki with the image of Taki slaying an innocent and defenseless Toki for selfish purposes.

And last, Mekki-maru planted a thought within Geki's mind:

_If Mekki-maru's power is increased through the collection of souls, it could do anything - even revive the dead._

Slowly, Geki became less aware of Mekki-maru; he was already possessed by two other things - an incredibly potent desire to find Taki and make her suffer in the worst ways imaginable, and an intoxicating need for Toki to be resurrected - and the key to fulfilling both of these desires was very clear...the sword he held in his hand at this moment.

Mekki-maru stopped attempting to fight for control of Geki, and gave him complete reign over himself - Geki did not instantly cast away the sword, nor did he make attempts to expel Mekki-maru's will out of his body. The thought of losing the sword or the power of Mekki-maru was his worst fear at this point. His main concern now was infusing Mekki-maru with as much power as possible. Geki immediately began running towards the hidden ninja village at an inhuman speed.

Mekki-maru was pleased.


	37. Darkest Hour

Zasalamel had not underestimated Taki. He had determined her to be a warrior of exceptional skill in both combat and magical arts, and, at her peak, she could forge a seal that would require days of intense effort for Zasalamel to undo. However, Taki was nowhere near her peak when she had placed her seal upon the Soul Embrace. The ease with which Zasalamel could presently remove the seal was not from a lack of talent on Taki's part, but a result of her weakened state - and Zasalamel's immense power and knowledge as well - and so he did not look upon Taki's seal with condescension or disdain.

Zasalamel could remove Taki's seal with a wave of his hand, expending only a fraction of his energy to do so, yet he did not. He could already sense the amount of energy that was in the Embrace - too little, far too little. Both swords lacked their true strength at the moment. It would be meaningless to obtain them now, and tedious to restore their power. It would take years for him to do so.

The blade of Soul Edge fed upon all forms of negative energy - hatred, greed, fury, even vices such as lust and arrogance. Zasalamel had long done away with such weaknesses. Soul Edge could not feed upon him, could not grow strong from him. The youth, however, was a different story.

Controlled by regret, self-pity, and repressed immoral desires, Siegfried was a feast for Soul Edge. Scarcely were there to be found individuals whose experiences had been more traumatic than Siegfried's experience as a host of Soul Edge, whose inner conflicts raged fiercer, whose scars ran deeper. Him and his ragtag band of dysfunctional and mentally turbulent wretches. Their strife, their discord, their friction, it was all a feast for the blade. However, Soul Edge fed only at half pace; because the two swords were one, they shared their 'meals' and their power alike. This was, however, to Zasalamel's benefit; he wanted both of them powerful, and both of them together - for now, at least.

As they were now, the two swords slowly fed off of the conflict of those who transported them, and ate the suffering of those they encountered and the lands they passed through. Zasalamel could never rebuild the swords' energy so quickly and efficiently. Allowing the group to trot along as they had been doing was perhaps the best choice for him.

Although he did not consider himself impatient, Zasalamel was always pleased to discover a way to hasten the development of his machinations. And such a discovery he had recently made; the forthcoming new Soul weapon. This new blade would be composed of a very raw form of the energy that Soul Edge needed to grow stronger and attain its former strength. Zasalamel knew what would happen when Siegfried and his companions reached the ninja village, what events would transpire there, and exactly how it would all happen - he could not see the future, but was so experienced and wizened by countless centuries of life that, for him, there was rarely guesswork to be done in determining how a situation would play out.

And when she returned to the inn, he would deceive her. All Zasalamel had to do now was plan his deception, and spend the next few hours refining his words until she arrived.

Zasalamel's lips curled into a very rare smirk.

---

"Geki! You've returned!"

"Where is Master Toki?"

"You hold the Mekki-maru - tell us what has happened!"

The one-armed behemoth of a man did not appear to be listening to the ninja that gathered around him. They approached their revered comrade and asked him to inform them of Toki's situation, but he gave them no sign of acknowledgement at all. His eyes remained fixated on one point - the hut that had belonged to Toki - and it was with grim determination and suspiciously unwavering purpose that he marched toward it.

The ninja were unsettled by Geki's peculiar behavior and began to fear that a dire situation was afoot - but they had no clue exactly how dangerous their situation was until their finely tuned senses picked up on the dark, evil energy existing within Geki.

It was apparent enough for any of them to tell, and so not a one of them felt it necessary to speak it aloud -

_Geki is possessed._

There had been suspicion among many of the ninjas that Master Toki had fallen under the influence of an evil spirit. Toki's most loyal followers refused to even consider such a possibility, and believed such words to be treasonous. To make such an accusation against Master Toki was a serious claim indeed, and as dangerous as the matter was, neither side was eager to discuss it.

Yet, it could not be denied that Toki had changed, that his aura had become darker in recent times. His supporters reasoned that decades of exposure to evil forces had taken a toll on Toki's spirit; the skeptical believed that an evil force had come to reside within him, and was using Toki's own purification arts to mask its presence.

The force that currently possessed Geki, however, was making no attempts to mask its prescience.

"It's that sword!" One ninja exclaimed. "It consumed Toki, and now it has done the same to Geki! This is exactly what we have been trying to warn you all about! If only you had listened to us!"

"It doesn't matter!" Barked a veteran ninja. "The clan does not need to be divided right now - we must be united at a time like this!"

"But what can we do? Geki is the most powerful among us! How could we stop him? And his weapon is none other than Mekki-maru itself!"

"Control yourself! Our expertise is demon-slaying. There are dozens of us, and but one foe. If we all use our arts against him at once, we stand a chance!"

Toki had taken many of his supporters with him during his final mission, but a large number of ninja still remained in the village. The clan had assembled for a group training session shortly before he had arrived, so almost the entire clan was present. Three dozen ninja demon hunters are a powerful force - yet Geki, who had been within earshot during their discussion, showed no sign of fearing them.

Geki's destination was obvious - Toki's hut, and the shards within. The ninja dashed off, heading to surround Toki's hut and cast a barrier.

Geki had apparently decided to ignore the ninja in favor of his own interests, but upon seeing their intentions, he immediately went on the offensive. Moving with incredible speed for a man of his size, Geki dashed straight for the nearest group. With just one swing of Mekki-maru, he cleaved several ninja in half. Before their severed bodies hit the ground, he had already changed course and kicked off in the direction of the next ninja group.

Aware that Geki would annihilate them before they could finish erecting a barrier, the ninja turned their arts on him, instead. Drawing o-fuda talismans, chanting incantations, and summoning purification magic, the ninja began to launch attacks at Geki - but none could strike him. With his natural athletic abilities increased by Mekki-maru's power, Geki moved like lightning, dodging every attack thrown his way, while kicking off of surfaces to leap from ninja to ninja, killing them all systematically and brutally with the Mekki-maru.

Before long, there were only a handful of ninja left alive. Knowing that they could no longer pose a threat to them, Geki came to a stop outside of Toki's hut, and then resumed his calm, determined walk as he entered the abode.

As the scant number of remaining ninja outside tried to wake themselves from their nightmare, Geki entered Toki's hidden chamber of Soul Edge shards. Placing Mekki-maru on a table, he held a shard in his single hand and jammed it into the blade of the sword. There was a brief flash of red light, a pulse of dark energy, a sound as if the earth itself was moaning in desperation, and the shard had joined the blade. The shape and size of the blade altered to accommodate the new shard and the extra power. Then, the process began again with another shard.

With each shard Geki added to the blade, its appearance changed in a more and more dramatic fashion. A meaty, flesh-like growth appeared between the hilt and the blade, and grew in size with each addition. The blade itself grew wider and longer, as well. The meat expanded, pushing the blade away, making the weapon as much flesh as it was steel. Veins formed between the flesh and the blade, and pumped as though a heart resided somewhere in the body of the grotesque abomination.

There was no spire of light, no beat of war drums, no triumphant demonic fanfare to announce the birth of the new Soul Blade; it was not instantaneous, but a slow transition. Perhaps the point of its creation could be defined as the moment when a slit appeared down the middle of the flesh-like growth and slowly spread open, revealing a bloodshot and yellowed eye.

The Soul Blade was not identical to Soul Edge, but bore many of the same features - so it was quite understandable when it was mistaken for its parent blade.

"S-Soul Edge?" Sophitia gasped upon the group's arrival.

"No...A new Soul Blade." A miserable Siegfried clarified. "We're...too late."

"TAKI!" Screamed one of the surviving ninja. "How DARE you return to this village?"

"You have led outsiders to these grounds? What are you THINKING?"

Taki turned to face them. "If you are the only survivors, then our clan has died today. It no longer matters if an outcast or outsiders step foot in this village."

"What has happened to Toki and Geki?" A ninja demanded. "Is this catastrophe YOUR doing?"

"Toki is dead." Geki said, with a cruel grin upon his face. "And this nuke-nin slew him."

The remaining ninja glared at Taki in fury.

"That's not the full story." Taki said calmly, refusing to allow the will of the Soul Blade to trick her into becoming emotional. "Toki was possessed, and on the verge of becoming a deadly threat. I stopped him, as I will stop this new enemy." She finished, raising her Rekki-maru.

The possessed Geki slowly laughed as he held up the completed Soul Blade. The others, panting and exhausted from their long run, readied their weapons.

"Souls!" Geki hissed.

He became a blur - dashing past Siegfried's group and to the ninja behind them, Geki impaled one of the survivors of his rampage with the Soul Blade. The ninja screamed in pain, but his cries were silenced as the new demonic blade consumed his soul. Geki whipped the blade to the side, flinging the ninja's corpse away, and moved on just as fast to the next ninja.

"No - Stop - STOP!" Siegfried howled. With speed that surpassed his colleagues' expectations, but which could not rival Geki's, he charged after the monster of a man, but could not stop him. Geki teased Siegfried, staying just within the reach of his Zweihänder, but dodging at the last moment to take the life of yet another survivor. Within a minute, the last ninja of the Fu-Ma clan was killed. With each soul his blade consumed, Geki seemed to change in appearance, becoming more demonic - becoming more _nightmarish_.

Siegfried panted heavily from exhaustion that was not physical, but mental. "Couldn't stop..." he panted, lamenting his broken vow to never again allow a Soul weapon to take another life.

"Such powerful souls, each of you!" Geki hissed. "A feast!" He kicked off once more, charging at the group.

One of the most one-sided fights in history began. It could hardly be called a fight, as Siegfried and his companions could do little more than defend themselves. The demonic one-armed man dashed at them as fast as lightning, swinging his grotesque blade to kill, and it was only by a hair's breadth or without a moment to spare that they were able to dodge his attacks or block the brunt of them. Their weapons cracked under the stress, and scars and gashes began to appear on their bodies as Geki's accuracy improved.

_Such a fine collection of souls in one place - ah, who are these wonderful beings? Let me sample the taste of their souls, one by one._

_Who is this? It would seem a little bird has wondered onto the battlefield. She darts to and fro with all the grace and speed of a hummingbird - but all the thirst for blood as a raven. Yes, there is something dark underneath this one. Powerful desires long repressed, a lifetime of habit barely restrained. What fuels her? What is this feeling inside of her? This warmth amidst darkness and bloodlust? Whom is it for?_

_And what would this be - two flowers growing amidst the chaos? The same blood within. Sisters. So soft and angelic. But what resides beneath them? Secrets quite unfitting of their lily-white looks. Betrayal. Revenge? A quite curious desire for 'comfort'. Envy? Yes, jealousy powerful but hidden. _

_Who is this? A wolf in sheep's clothing. A blade is hidden in that umbrella, a licentious woman is hidden under that formal clothing, a foreigner is hidden behind the mask of a native. A life's purpose finally found, but a sudden lack of direction. What dual lives she has._

_What have I discovered here - a turbulent whirlpool on land? Tsk tsk, this one has suffered. A man awash in a sea of self-pity and guilt, floundering about as he attempts to restrain desires he's never known before. Such a tidepool of inner conflicts, such scars that run deeper than the seafloor. But what is this residue I can see on his soul? Why, yes, yes it is - former host. Perhaps more ideal than this worthless lug I inhabit now._

_The woman of the hour. An azure shadow. A glutton for pain, it would seem. Simply does not know when to quit. Overconfidence is the problem. Too sure of her abilities. This aside, she is a threat. She could stop me. Those arts - almost as powerful as Toki's. No no, she cannot live. I must kill her._

_...And last, we have..._

_...Sister?_

_My my, this one is quite the find. Same blood as I, same aura. We are shards of the same blade, we are. We belong together. This one is a perfect match, a perfect fit. I would slip right into her, yes I would. There is no need to occupy this brute any longer. I've found home._

Geki finished toying with Siegfried and his companions, having found an objective. He waited for the right opening, batted the others away, and when his target was undefended, he struck. Geki leapt upon Ivy, pinning her to the ground. Forcing the Soul Blade into Ivy's gauntleted hand, Geki opened his mouth wide. The will of the Soul Blade emerged from Geki's mouth, and flew past Ivy's lips during her gasp of confusion.

_Hello, sister! I'm home!_

Geki's body fell limp. With force she would not have possessed were it not for the power of the Soul Blade, Ivy pressed her feet against the oversized body on top of her, and kicked it off.

"...What just happened? Why did he go limp like that? Ivy, did you kill him?" Cassandra asked.

"...NO!!" Taki suddenly exclaimed. "It changed hosts! She's possessed!"

Ivy's purple lips curled into a smile. She dropped the Snake Sword, and grasped the Soul Blade with both hands. Almost instantaneously, it began to transform. It seemed to break apart, dividing into smaller pieces, each strewn along a wire. Before their eyes, the Soul Blade was transforming into a bladed whip exactly like the Snake Sword.

The eye of the Soul Blade rolled upwards as if in ecstasy. "So compatible - attuned just right - thank you father! - the perfect host..." Ivy moaned.

"There's no telling..." Siegfried whispered, defeat and dismay dripping from every syllable. "...There's no telling how much her power could grow after becoming a host...a woman born with Soul Edge's blood already running through her veins..."

Ivy threw back her head and cackled loudly. Then, without warning, she whipped her arm back, then lashed it forward - at Taki. The sharp, jagged edges of the Soul Blade whisked toward her.

There was the sound of tearing sinew, the splattering of blood, and the scream of a man being dealt a mortal blow.

Taki stepped back in shock and confusion as Geki blocked the strike aimed for her using his own body. Geki fell, his chest ripped to shreds, clutching the wound that had been meant for Taki.

"...Why?" She whispered with trembling lips.

"You're the only one who can stop it." Geki said with his final breath.

Giggling at the touching spectacle, Ivy whipped her arm back for another strike. Once again, the battle was on - this time, self-protection had been cast aside in favor of defending Taki.

Her normally composed demeanor shattered, a panicked and frightened Taki cast her most powerful arts as she attempted to land a purifying blow on Ivy or the Soul Blade. The others surrounded her and defended her from Ivy's attacks, but every blow sent them flying through the air, and no sooner than they had returned to the fight were they forced to block yet another strike that would knock them away. It took incredible amounts of teamwork just to stay alive - each member's objective was merely to defend she whom was being attacked.

_Pests._ Soul Blade scoffed. _What does Sister know about them that would help?_

_Let us see..._

_...Soul...Embrace?_

The worn and fatigued combatants dashed to Taki's side to protect her, only to discover that Ivy was no longer attacking. A look of joy was on her face, and her body seemed to tremble with pure ecstasy.

In the history of humanity, there has never been a human who lost a part of himself, only to one day encounter that part again, as a fully developed being. It is a relationship unlike parenthood, unlike brotherhood, unlike any currently existing relationship. As such, it is impossible for any human to relate to the Soul Blade, or understand it's desire - it's desire to reunite itself with the blade it was a piece of, its desire to be whole again.

"I'm coming, Father!" Ivy crowed merrily. Choosing to abandon the pests whom she presently lacked sufficient power to destroy in such a lopsided battle, she turned in the direction of the inn, and began to run.

Siegfried would allow himself no rest. "She's heading for the inn. Soul Embrace." He panted.

"Taki's seal - "

"No chances." He wheezed. "We have to hurry."

Siegfried began to charge after Ivy, but only succeeding in falling face first into the dirt below. He struggled to his feet, but lacked the strength to push himself up. He was spent.

"Master..." Tira whispered, rushing to her owner's side, although she could do little more than collapse into a sitting position beside.

It began to rain.

The entire group now knew the degree of exhaustion Taki had been forced to endure earlier. No matter how dire the situation, there was nothing they could do. Their wounds were too painful, and the fight had taxed them too harshly. They possessed the urgency, but not the energy, to chase after Ivy.

All they could do was collapse where they stood, and reel from the swiftness at which everything had broken. The destruction of a ninja clan, the birth of a new Soul Blade, and the loss of Ivy - all within such a short time frame.

They had no words to share. There was nothing to be said. They had failed utterly and completely, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. As they laid facedown in mud, a Soul Blade manipulated their friend, and was within hours of claiming Soul Embrace for itself.

They had experienced many low points during their journey, but this was, by far, their darkest hour.

"No point in going after her like this." Siegfried said once he had finally caught his breath. "We'd just get killed. If we want a chance...have to rest, heal. Prepare. Taki..."

Taki, the only member of the group who possessed too much dignity to sit or lie in mud, and had leaned against a tree for support instead, trudged through the mud to begin healing her wounded companions with her arts. "...We can rest in the homes here." She said. "There will be food, as well. ...I rested earlier. I have more energy than the rest of you. I'm going to bury what remains of my friends."

---

Ivy stared down at the Soul Embrace. She reached out to touch it, but a solid invisible barrier prevented her hands from coming too close. Partly out of frustration, and partly because it seemed practical, she began to slice and chop up the wooden floor, hoping that the Soul Embrace would fall through to the floor below. It didn't work. Even when there was nothing left of the floor around it, the Soul Embrace hovered there in midair, kept in place by its barrier.

Growling, Ivy knelt before the Embrace, and brought her face as close to it as she could.

"Father? Are you in there? Can you hear me?" She asked.

She waited. She listened. She tried to sense it. But she couldn't.

She couldn't detect the faintest trace of will residing in the Soul Embrace. Not at all.

"What?" She demanded. "Empty?"

"No. Not empty."

As soon as she had heard a single word spoken, Ivy clutched the Soul Blade, leapt up, whirled, and pointed the blade at the source of the voice.

Just a shadow in a corner.

"The Soul Embrace is not empty; Soul Edge's will is indeed still within."

The voice had come from a new direction. Ivy whirled to face it, but as she did, the voice changed location again. The voice came from several different places throughout the duration of the sentence.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Search your host's memories; she will know."

The will of the Soul Blade took a moment. "...Zasalamel." Ivy said.

"That is correct." Zasalamel responded, keeping himself unseen.

"What are you doing here? Waiting for Taki's spell to wear off?"

"No. I have no interest in the Soul Embrace."

"Lies!" Ivy screeched. "You've always tried to take it from us!"

"Incorrect. My goal has always been to kill Siegfried; nothing more." Zasalamel said in his unnaturally smooth, calm voice. "I have no interest in that unnatural weapon."

"Then what are you here for?"

"I am here to help you help me." Zasalamel said. "I will tell you how to awaken the will of Soul Edge."

"How?"

"Due to the circumstances under which Siegfried and the Soul Edge last parted, the will of Soul Edge is 'sealed', and only exposure to Siegfried will revive it."

The Soul Blade was silent, thinking, considering. Zasalamel tried to marvel at the sight of a sword with a mind, but had seen too many things during his many lives to be surprised anymore.

"How can I break the Soul Embrace?" Ivy asked.

"You cannot. I shall do that for you. When Siegfried and his merry band arrive at this inn, I will break Taki's seal, then separate the two swords. Take Soul Edge, and thrust it into Siegfried's hand. I shall be satisfied with seeing Siegfried forced to become Nightmare once more, and you will be re-united with your 'Father'."

Ivy smiled. "Excellent. Mutually beneficial for the both of us. I enjoy it when things perfectly fit together. If you will excuse me, I am hungry, and the innkeeper downstairs made for an unsatisfactory meal. I will return once I have fed." With this, Ivy quickly exited the room through a window, and began to hunt.

Zasalamel was almost content enough to smile. _Pure will is quite gullible_, he observed.

---

Siegfried and his companions shed their armor and left it where it was in the mud just so that they were unburdened enough to move. The rainwater pouring down from above refreshed and soothed them, but it could not wash away their feelings of impotence and hopelessness. Silently apologizing to the dead for robbing, they fed upon the food found in the quarters of the dead ninja, and used their beds for rest. They spent the next several hours sleeping restlessly. As irresponsible and careless as it felt to sleep at such a dire time, it would only have been more foolish to chase after Ivy while half dead.

They shared few words - most of the thoughts on their minds were dismal and self-pitying. With perhaps Cassandra as an exception, they were all of age and maturity to know that moping was neither productive nor respectable, yet in times as dark as these, it was difficult to do much else.

Eventually, Taki had finished healing their wounds, their hunger had been satiated, and their need for rest had been fulfilled. Their sense of urgency slowly began to renew itself, and they quickly adorned their armor once more as they prepared to set out. They didn't say much to each other; nobody felt like talking, and they were all thinking the same things, anyway.

All they could do now was hurry, and hope they weren't too late.

---

Another massacre. The possessed Ivy had gone on a rampage in the small village where Siegfried and the others had stayed at an inn. Blood ran down the crude roads, and bodies could be seen lying everywhere.

"This is horrible..." Cassandra said wistfully as they observed the scene.

"...This...is the power of a Soul weapon? This is what it can do?" Setsuka asked.

The sight was causing visible stress for Siegfried, whose most painful memories had already been triggered quite frequently in the past day. "Let's keep moving - to the inn." He said, and led the group onwards.

They reached the entrance of the inn. Siegfried turned to face the others. "It has not yet been a full day since Taki's seal was placed. The seal is likely to still be in place. We were no match for Ivy before, but we were exhausted and fatigued. Now that we are in good health, we stand a much - "

Siegfried's motivational speech was interrupted by the sound of wood splintering violently as Ivy burst through a wall of the inn, grasping the Soul Blade in one hand and Soul Edge in the other. Ivy came at Siegfried from behind, but he whirled as he heard her sudden entrance, coming to face her, and she barreled into him, knocking him onto his back, and pinning him down. Siegfried reached for his Zweihänder, and into his open hand, Ivy thrust the hilt of Soul Edge.

The women dashed forward to come to Siegfried's aid, but Ivy suddenly extended her snake-like variant of the Soul Blade and twirled it in a circle rapidly, creating a vortex of whirling blades around herself that would not allow anyone near enough to help.

"Take it, Siegfried! Take the sword! Become its slave once more!" Ivy hissed.

"Never again! NEVER AGAIN!" Siegfried roared, struggling with all his might to force Ivy off, but making no progress. She continued to pin his hand down with the hilt of the sword, but he refused to grasp the hilt.

Suddenly, the triumphant, sadistic look on Ivy's face melted into one of surprise and fear. With superhuman agility, she rolled off of Siegfried. Scarcely a moment later, a shimmering bluish blade passed through the air she had just occupied. Siegfried's savior was Tira. She had leapt down from the roof's in, swinging a weapon at Ivy. But Tira was not holding the ringblade she usually used -

She was holding Soul Calibur.

A string of swears erupted from Ivy's mouth as the will of the Soul Blade cursed its own oversight. It had left Soul Calibur unattended - and the woman who had seemed the most harmless of them all had been the only one with enough athletic skill to rush into the inn and grab it before anyone had noticed.

In Tira's hands, Soul Calibur had morphed into a circular shape, befitting the style of combat she was trained in. But no one chose to admire its shape for long, as the weapon in Siegfried's hand was just as significant. Siegfried now clutched Soul Edge.

Siegfried slowly and calmly rose to his feet, his back to the others. They waited in silence, fearing the worst, as Ivy grinned victoriously.

"...It's empty. There is no will inside of this sword." Siegfried said. "There is power, but no soul. Soul Edge's will is gone."

"...WHAT?" Ivy screeched. "That filthy moor...he's a fool or a liar!" She spat.

A rare smirk appeared on Siegfried's face as he tightened his grip around Soul Edge. "I never thought I would be glad to grasp this weapon again...but now that it can no longer hold power over me..."

Ivy, sensing the veiled threat in Siegfried's words, extended her Soul Blade again. Knowing what the wisest course of action would be, she lunged at Taki.

Siegfried, moving with enhanced speed, either from urgency or due to a slight boost from Soul Edge's power, dashed to block Taki from attack. Soul Edge and the Soul Blade clashed, and although the two blades resonated, they did not seem to harm one another. "Tira!" Siegfried called. "Give Soul Calibur to Taki!"

Tira winced visibly. She looked hurt - betrayed. With indignity covering her face, she leapt into the air and then flung the Soul Calibur toward Taki. It sliced into the ground at her feet. Taki put her hand on the inside of the ring, and it began to transform. In her hands, the weapon took on the appearance of an elaborate ninjatō blade.

"NO!" Ivy howled. With rage fueling her strength, she shoved Siegfried away.

"Everyone but Taki - get out of here!" Siegfried ordered. "Only Taki and I are needed here!"

The others did not bother to feel insulted - only a Soul weapon was a match for a Soul weapon, making this fight one that was between Ivy, Siegfried, Taki, and no one else. Tira bit her lip in anger, but withdrew along with the others.

Ivy panted rapidly, her frustration readily apparent, seething with rage. She charged at Taki, more intent on killing her now than ever, but her blow was blocked by Siegfried's Soul Edge. In anger, Ivy turned her weapon upon Siegfried, but was suddenly struck by Taki, dual-wielding Rekki-maru in one hand and Soul Calibur in the other. Taki landed a purifying blow upon Ivy, weakening the power of the Soul Blade and of its will over Ivy. This only seemed to fuel Ivy's fury, and she began her attack anew.

The fight continued, but it was short and one-sided. Taki struck Ivy again and again, decreasing her power further with every strike. "ZASALAMEL!" Ivy shrieked. "YOU WORTHLESS MOOR! COME TO MY AID!" She received no response. It would appear that the enigmatic man had abandoned her. She was alone, and against odds she could not beat. She became frantic and fought with more and more desperation.

"Siegfried! I'm going to put all of my power into the next strike!" Taki announced. "It will leave me in a weakened state, so you must not allow her to harm me!"

Siegfried nodded, and the final attack began.

It all happened so fast that everything seemed to go by in a single moment. Only Zasalamel, for whom time moved achingly slow, caught every detail with his ever-watchful eye.

Siegfried lunged at Ivy and swung his blade to cause her to raise her own weapon in defense. Ivy raised the Soul Blade and blocked, but it was at this point that Taki charged in to deliver the final purifying strike. Ivy saw her coming, and jerked her weapon to the side to defend against this new attack. As she moved her weapon, Siegfried's Soul Edge slid to the side, and Taki inadvertently thrust Soul Calibur into Soul Edge. However, as the two swords impaled one another, they also drove through the Soul Blade, piercing it. The Soul Blade became entwined in the Embrace of Edge and Calibur, and its energy was absorbed equally by both blades.

The will of the Soul Blade, seeing its death at hand, had chosen a final surprise attack - as Taki lunged forward to stab, Ivy opened her mouth, and the will of the Soul Blade shot out, aiming for Siegfried. However, it never reached its goal. It was entangled in the simultaneous strike of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur, and the combined energy of both weapons annihilated the Soul Blade's will in an instant.

Anyone who blinked missed it.

Ivy fell to the ground, and Siegfried and Taki were left holding a larger version of the Soul Embrace. It had all happened so quickly that no one was able to figure out what has just happened or piece it all together right away. They were left dumbfounded and confused.

After recovering from the shock of the greatest threat of their lives ending within a single spectacular moment, they began to cheer. It was the ultimate relief. They had emerged into daylight from the darkest, deepest ordeal they had ever endured. The nightmare was over. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Zasalamel, satisfied, became a shadow and vanished.

Everyone was still completely clueless as to exactly what had transpired during those final moments. It was only after they spent a minute or two sharing theories that they came close to piecing together what had happened accurately.

Ivy began to stir.

"Ivy! Are you alright?" Siegfried asked with immense concern. After witnessing the birth of a Nightmaress with their own eyes, there was not a soul present who believed that Siegfried's stories of the horrors of possession had been exaggerated. They all knew that he was the only one present who knew what Ivy had just gone through, and none among them were impudent enough to think that anyone but Siegfried deserved to express the most concern for Ivy presently.

Ivy's eyes fluttered open. They rolled around, observing Siegfried and then the others. "...Where is it?" She asked.

"It's gone - we can't sense it, not even inside of the Embrace. We think it was destroyed in the final attack."

"Embrace." Ivy muttered exasperatedly, obviously disappointed to know that it was back. She began to rise to her feet, and allowed the others to help her up. She seemed embarrassed and ashamed - but was a woman of too much dignity to let it show.

"Ivy...will you be alright?" Siegfried asked.

Ivy didn't reply. "Siegfried." She began. "I want to apologize to you again."

"...Apologize...?"

"For what you had to go through. I only had a fraction of it, but - it almost drove me mad. I never knew it was...that bad. Siegfried, I'm...sorry."

"...It wasn't your fault. You don't need to apologize."

"...You deserve better." She said unclearly.

The other women felt as if it would be impossible for them to relate to Siegfried and Ivy, as they had both experienced something they never had, and never hoped to.

"It's surprising." Ivy said. "I don't know why I'm so calm. I think I should be crying or something, but...it's like the shock hasn't hit me yet..." She turned to face the others. "Thank you...for saving me. Tira - thank you. Siegfried and Taki...thank you so much." For the first time in a long while, the normally proud woman seemed on the verge of tears.

"Ivy - I don't mean to ask you about it so soon, but - did Zasalamel appear?" Siegfried asked.

Ivy nodded, and repeated Zasalamel's words. "...However, he was wrong about the will of Soul Edge."

"Wrong - or lied." Taki suggested.

"Why would he want to deceive the will of the Soul Blade...?" Setsuka wondered aloud.

"To stop it?" Sophitia proposed.

"To help us?" Cassandra asked.

Tira sat nearby, back turned, holding her ringblade close.

Ivy shook her head. "I could tell that he was very cunning and manipulative. I wouldn't trust a word he says. Whatever his plan is, he's up to something dangerous."

"The Soul Embrace - why did the seal wear off so soon? How did it separate?" Siegfried asked.

"Zasalamel broke the seal." Ivy said, causing Taki to twitch. "He also separated the Soul Embrace with some sort of spell. I have no clue what he did or how."

Aside from describing a few more details with one another, the group had little more to discuss. They had caught their breath, and although it was still hard to believe that their ordeal and already come and gone, they decided to move on.

Once Taki was at full power, she attempted to use her purification arts on the Soul Embrace, but her efforts resulted in no effect. The mysteries of the Soul Embrace had only become deeper on that day. Their time in Japan was drawing to a close; there was little left to be done here. The group began to chart a path out of the island nation.

Taki had been without a clan for a long time now - but had always thought that, if she could prove her innocence, she might be allowed to return. Now, that would be impossible. However, Taki had a new 'clan' in mind. Being without a home or a purpose, but having acquired an immense interest in putting an end to the threat of Soul Edge, Taki humbly requested that she be allowed to join Siegfried's ever-growing legion. She was warmly welcomed.


	38. The Sin in Siegfried

**

* * *

****A/N:** In case a reminder is necessary – Chapter 31 was the beginning of a fan-written side-story to IAYS, and this chapter is a continuation of that side-story. The author is Henry, a talented writer who provides me with invaluable help when I lack inspiration. Please enjoy reading his fanfiction of my fanfiction!

* * *

Greed left Zasalamel's side after relating to him an amusing anecdote just long enough to separate himself from the plane of Earth and away from the concrete, into a place encircled in darkness, where only his own body was illuminated.

"**Report, Greed."**

"I have conducted the necessary observations," Greed stated, dropping to one knee and lowering his head, pointing it towards a nonexistent floor. "Zasalamel is strong enough to claim the sword for himself. At his present course, he will eventually wry it from Siegfried and use it to achieve his ambitions."

"**That is not the plan we had in mind."**

Greed lifted his head very slowly, fearfully. "You...wanted me to do something else?"

"**There is someone else who has already used the power of the sword,**" came a new voice, almost as commanding as the last. **"Place it in his hands, and darkness will consume the Earth. Zasalamel's plan must not succeed, or the sword could risk being sealed away forever."**

"What is it you need me to do?" Greed asked.

"**Persuade the former Azure Knight to regain his lost glory," **came the response. **"If Soul Edge is completed, evil will spread throughout the world. All of us can escape this wretched place and join you upon the Earth."**

"I look forward to it," Greed said with a nod, bowing a final time and rising to his feet, and appearing once more at Zasalamel's side.

Zasalamel did not turn to acknowledge him. "...You are still following me?"

Greed smiled. "For a while longer. How long will you be staying in this land?"

"So long as I wish to," Zasalamel answered shortly. "I tire of using secondary agents. I will wait Siegfried out; given time, he will bring the sword to me."

Greed shrugged. "Yeah, sure... I suppose, seeing as you'll live longer than he will anyway, you could just wait for him to die."

Zasalamel finally refocused his gaze on Greed. "What was that?"

"Oh, just that I've seen quite a few facets of your personality recently," Greed pointed out. "You aren't as powerful - or as charismatic - as you think you are."

Zasalamel thrust his arm out, grasped Greed's head within his hand, clenched his fist, and crushed Greed's skull. As Greed's head rebuilt itself, his laugh came as fast as always. "Siegfried is just a mortal man," Zasalamel assured. "He has already shown how easily he is swayed...it will not be difficult to manipulate him."

Greed gave a mocking bow. "I'll leave you to your devices, then..." He gave another laugh and vanished, leaving Zasalamel alone.

And for the first time, feeling the tiniest hint of doubt.

---

The sun sank down into the west and night fell. Having secured lodgings, they divided into their rooms: Taki provided for herself and selected a suite, Setsuka and the Alexandra sisters took one, Ivy selected one and locked everyone else out of it, and Siegfried and Tira accepted one for themselves.

It was Tira who suggested it, and Siegfried agreed. In moments, they were undressed and their bodies were entangled once again. At first, they were intense...but as the night wore on, Siegfried lost his fervor, and his actions became simple and instinctive.

The body he had once tormented himself to see was no longer foreign to him, and every inch of Tira was still fresh in his mind. He'd seen her many times, and had her do whatever he wanted... but no matter how fond of her he'd been, the body writhing beneath him seemed less attractive and less important now.

She was his slave. She belonged to him.

Horrible as he felt to think about that, it had struck him as a painful reality. She was so beautiful, and he liked having her by his side, but she was just something to please him. She wasn't a person, she was an object. She was his toy, and he would play with her when he wanted to, and only when he wanted to.

Horrible as he felt to think about that, he was...enjoying it. From his ownership of Tira, he was deriving some sick, twisted pleasure in the back of his otherwise prim, proper mind. He enjoyed knowing that no matter how many women he used, he could always take this one, should someone else refuse him. So long as he had Tira, his desires could be satisfied.

Horrible as he felt to think about that, he recognized that he did not need to love Tira. She would do what he asked any time he wanted to. He didn't need to be passionate with her nor make effort to please her. He could satisfy himself and himself alone.

Horrible as he felt to think about that.

Siegfried had finished with her eventually and lay beside her, not speaking. He knew Tira was watching him, trying to curl beside him, but he did not embrace her. He did not offer her praise nor ask her if she'd been pleased...and she would not talk to him unless he engaged her in conversation.

He smiled grimly at the thought. He had a slave, and he was finally starting to like that.

Tira, meanwhile, looked at the cushions of their bed, concealing her tears from her Master.

---

The following day, the party divided once again. Siegfried, Tira, and Setsuka accompanied Taki to meet with an associate of hers', while the Alexandra sisters accompanied Ivy in speaking with the Eastern alchemists. They agreed to return to that inn in the late afternoon. Cassandra had to be regularly dragged away from the various local merchants, and within a few short minutes had learned to fear Ivy when she was angered. Even a simple tug was incredibly painful when Ivy's whip was doing the pulling.

The day was uneventful at first, with Cassandra and Sophitia struggling to find something to do to remain relevant, while Ivy overcame language barriers by showing the Japanese scientists her own knowledge of alchemy. Even after being consumed by a facsimile of the sword's power, she still seemed convinced that her scientific knowledge would overwhelm the unnatural power of Soul Edge.

The day was uneventful, but the monotony was suddenly interrupted by a very unexpected attack; a monstrous creature - seemingly composed only of brown chunks of flesh - appeared seemingly from out of the ground, extending long, claw-like fingers towards Sophitia.

Sophitia felt her side ache, as the shards beneath her skin emanated their baneful power. At once she readied her sword and shield, as the faceless monstrosity approached her, moving slowly forward...until its fingers seemed to twist and contort, taking the shape of a sword and shield, virtually identical to her own.

Ivy hadn't noticed, still haggling with an increasingly apprehensive Japanese alchemist. Cassandra rushed to her sister's defense, eyeing the strange creature.

"Ugh! You're definitely not my type!"

The creature swung the blade. Cassandra parried the attack with her shield and swung down low, cutting the thing's feet away from its legs and watching it fall back...only to almost immediately reattach itself back together and resume its fighting stance.

"Uh..."

"Get away, Cassie!" Sophitia instructed. "Don't fight that thing!"

Ivy gave an audible sigh as the Japanese alchemist she'd been speaking to abandoned his devices and precious metals in favor of placing distance between himself and the creature.

"Retreat," Sophitia told it. "You're outnumbered."

The creature did not seem to understand her (and if it did, it didn't care) and just swung again, only for its attack to be deflected by Cassandra once more. The sword it had constructed reformed into the shape of an axe and it swung again, striking with enough force to floor Cassandra, even with the protection of her shield.

Sophitia at once moved to her sister's defense, but Ivy raised her arm in Sophitia's path. "Leave this to me," the British woman instructed, stepping forth and breaking the Ivy Blade into sections, allowing it to rest on the ground.

The creature reformed its appendages, combining the two weapons into a single large blade, almost like Siegfried's zweihander. Ivy pursed her lips before slashing forth with her Ivy Blade, breaking through the creature's weaponry and cutting away some chunks from its flesh, only for things to reform.

Ivy smirked. "Cute trick," she lifted the Ivy Blade up over her shoulders and lowered her body ever so slightly. When the monstrosity pursued her again, she gave a short laugh and twisted her body out of range of its attack, and unleashed the whip in a large arc, cutting through the creature's fleshy chunks in several areas, allowing it to fall to the ground in several large pieces.

Ivy allowed her blade to reform and stepped aside, moving back...only to hear the sound as the creature reformed and lifted another sword-like appendage. Her whip sword reacted, but the rushing of wind meant the attack would be upon her before she could turn.

And then Cassandra skewered the creature through its torso as her Digamma sword cut right through its flesh and bluish aura. Ivy followed suit and cut it up into several smaller chunks, and quickly found familiar chunks of metal within the confines of its contorted body.

"Soul Edge shards," Ivy spat. "No wonder it attacked us."

Ivy continued hacking away, breaking the metal apart along the way. Cassandra attempted to help, but for each single strike she made, Ivy landed dozens. In only a short time, the Soul Edge shards had been ground into a fine powder, and tiny bits of flesh remained dormant on the ground.

Cassandra and Sophitia both looked up at Ivy expectantly.

Ivy sneered. "Are you expecting gratitude from me? You should be glad I decided to help _you_."

Cassandra was slack jawed, but had plenty to say, and only the timely placement of Sophitia's hand prevented the younger Alexandra sister from spouting off something she would later regret.

---

Meanwhile, back at a large, bustling port in India, Maxi stepped off his tiny vessel, rather surly... he hadn't found anyone willing or able to remove his anger, and everyone seemed to insist it was his own emotional fervor, and even after several strikes from his nunchaku, they remained convinced of that.

Maxi returned to the port in hope of finding some business...now that he'd made a successful journey to a war-torn country, assuredly other travelers heading to Japan might be willing to pay him an exorbitant sum for safe passage.

Instead, he wound up with a Chinese girl tugging on his arm and insisting that he accompany her on her search for 'Kilik,' whoever that was.

"Who are you, again?" Maxi asked.

"Silly, it's Xianghua! I'm really glad I ran into you...now, c'mon, let's go find Kilik!"

"Who's that?"

"Stop acting stupid, Maxi!" Despite being of small stature, Xianghua managed to drag him very well.

"Hey, wait, where are you-?" But it was too late...she pulled him effortlessly, driven by deep purpose. As he was tugged along, Maxi reflected.

"_Cut your own path through fate."_

And now this girl - Xianghua - seemed synonymous with those words.

---

Back in Japan, Siegfried did his level best to avoid eye contact with any of his three companions. It was easier in Tira's case, as she continued to march stoically behind him, with her head pointed to the ground. Setsuka constantly sent him cocky grins, while Taki stared directly ahead, always alert and prepared.

She was the one who directed the group into an otherwise innocuous building, leading them down a long stairwell into a dark sanctum, towards the familiar platform depicting the Tao, and the great statue of Buddha before it. Sitting upon Buddha's palm was a single figure, cast into shadow but with noteworthy prongs seeming to extend from her back. Raising her head, the figure revealed a few scraps of hair underneath a white hood. "You."

"I'm back," Taki greeted. "And we'd like to get some information from you."

Without hesitation, the person dropped from Buddha's palm, revealing herself in the dim torchlight, and unsheathed a katana from her hip. "You'll have to _take_ it," the woman promised Taki.

Taki shrugged, drawing the Mekki-Maru. "I've defeated you before, Miser, and without your subordinates, you won't be able to hold your own."

'Miser' did not reply verbally. She charged at Taki, extending the tip of her katana in the missing-nin's direction. Taki easily parried the attack, only for Miser to move skyward and lift the large shuriken from her back and fling it downwards. Taki back flipped out of the shuriken's path and delivered a massive upward kick with both feet square into Miser's chin before she landed. The force of the attack was sufficient to knock the katana from her hand, and Taki at once drew the Mekki-Maru to Miser's neck.

"I said we needed information from you," Taki stated. "That's the only thing keeping you alive right now."

Siegfried was about to protest, but Setsuka moved her parasol in front of his mouth. "Don't interfere," she whispered.

Miser sneered up at Taki. "Fine. What do you want?"

"I left behind a clan of demon hunters," Taki said, more for the others' benefit than Miser's, "and my friends were recently attacked by a member of the Fu-Ma ninjas; one of Master Toki's subordinates."

Miser sneered. "You have gone mad, then. The man with the broadsword over there destroyed all of my ninja."

Taki glanced back his way. "I didn't kill them," Siegfried chimed in. "It was an old man...a man with gray hair and a green tunic."

Miser's visible eye widened. "Greed..."

"Greed?" Taki repeated.

"A traitor like no other," Miser spat. "He led us to you, and when he showed me how to find the missing-nin, he told me Siegfried Schtauffen had killed all my men, before disappearing like he always does."

"Does he work for you?" Taki asked.

Miser sneered. "Never...we do not accept treachery, as you well know."

"Taki," Siegfried chimed in again, "about Geki..."

Taki nodded and moved the Mekki-Maru closer to Miser's neck. "What he said."

"I never met that man," Miser conceded. "I'm the only one who still inhabits this place. Any remaining Fu-Ma ninjas are outside my command."

Taki nodded. "Okay, then. You're of no further use to us."

Siegfried raised a protest but Setsuka halted him, and Taki slashed.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea, just past the Egyptian shoreline, Kilik was thrown from the raft he'd been using to travel with as a monstrous red-skinned creature appeared, tossing him into the choppy waves. Heavy rain obscured most of the creature's appearance, but it did have a noticeably deformed left arm with only three large fingers and a broken gray mask over its face. Kilik dragged himself up from the water and back onto the raft, extending the Kali-Yuga forward.

"Foul beast," Kilik growled. "Do not worry...I shall save you from whatever evil has consumed you!"

The masked monster merely grunted and growled, pounding its armored torso with both arms before charging. Kilik hopped aside, using his staff as a sort of springboard so he could strike at the creature's back, forcing it down onto the wet wood.

The creature righted itself almost immediately, and Kilik struck it back down with three quick swings of the Kali-Yuga, followed by a few additional hits before the monster could successfully right itself. The beast lifted its arm and grasped Kilik by the neck, lifting him up even as he struck away at the creature's head and neck.

Kilik felt the grip tightening, and his attacks grew less frequent, and the water droplets falling on him barely seemed to touch his face...

"Necrid! STOP!"

Kilik hit the wooden raft floor as the giant monstrosity released him. He glanced back up, to where the monstrosity referred to as 'Necrid' still stood, a thin, bearded man standing by its side, barely visible in the pouring rain.

"Oh, Kilik, isn't it? The one who defeated Nightmare?"

Kilik moved to his feet, again preparing the Kali-Yuga. "Who are you?"

"I'm your savior, apparently," the thin, bearded man replied. "I've got Necrid here tracking down the one-eyed knight with the scythe."

"A knight with a scythe?" Kilik repeated. The memories flooded back to him, when that man had cut him down without a word, without any effort or hesitation...

"Necrid here is ideal for destroying the one-eyed knight," the bearded man continued. "The power of the dormant Soul Edge keeps him alive."

"Power of the dormant Soul Edge? What do you mean?" Kilik asked.

"Necrid was once a warrior like you," the bearded man explained as Necrid himself dropped from the raft into the ocean, treading forth through the storm. "The power of the sword can do more than consume one's mind...it can imbed itself in their very life, slowly but surely joining part of its own immortal soul to flesh and metal, forcing the body to struggle onward long after it should have died.

"Necrid is nothing more but the sword's will, driven by an obsessive desire to possess it," the bearded man continued. "In the Soul Edge's present state, it is undetectable, and is forced to slowly poison another mind in the place of its former hosts... even though it appears neutral, the power of the Soul Calibur can not truly restrain so much evil energy. All of it will come forth slowly...sinking into the crevices of its bearer's already tainted mind."

"Siegfried..." Kilik muttered under his breath.

A flash of lightning revealed the old man's white whiskers and toothless smile. "Darkness sprouts easily...it is impossible to stamp out if it spreads slowly and methodically. So long as anyone has the Soul Edge in their possession, it will dominate their lives forever.

"And you failed to purify it yet again," the old man concluded.

Kilik waited a moment as he played over the scenario in his head, again raising the Kali-Yuga. "Who are you?" he asked again.

The bearded man turned away. "An idea...a notion...a voice..." He dropped into the waves and did not resurface.

---

Back in Japan, the group met again in the early evening, with neither side able to report anything useful. After fending off the attacks of the strange creature, Ivy, Sophitia, and Cassandra now had nothing more but a few extra Soul Edge shards.

Again they divided into their rooms, with Siegfried and Tira now sleeping in separate beds, with the former lying awake into the night, restless.

Normally he might've gone right to sleep after an exhausting day, but this time he was being driven by his growing resentment and impatience...every attempt to purify or destroy the Soul Embrace had failed! Even with the added assistance of a _god_ and purifying arts from all over the world, the two swords forever sat in the sack now resting at his bedside.

"_**...SIEGFRIED..."**_

Siegfried first turned towards the sack, and then turned away from it, refusing to hear the sword's words.

"_**Grasp my hilt. Wake and consume the souls of the weak! Show the world it's greatest nightmare!"**_

"Shut up!" Siegfried snarled, mostly under his breath.

"_**Grasp the blade! Siegfried Schtauffen must die so the Azure Knight can live!"**_

Siegfried covered his ears with both hands.

"Master?"

Siegfried turned, lifting his zweihander Requiem up to Tira's neck, glaring up at her with all his hatred and malice readily apparent on his face.

"Shut up," Siegfried snarled. "I've had enough of evil..."

Tira's eyes widened. "Master...Master, I'm not - "

Siegfried quickly realized that it was Tira before him now, and the Soul Embrace sat on the ground at his bedside, still wrapped in its sack. "Oh...Tira...I'm sorry, I didn't...just a nightmare."

Tira slowly nodded as Siegfried moved the blade away from her neck. "I...I'm sorry for disturbing you, Master." She moved back to her own bed, avoiding his gaze and staring down into her pillow.

Siegfried wanted to comfort her, but was at a loss of words to say...instead he only found more energy in himself, and the reminder that she was, after all, his slave, and the bed sheets clung to her curves...

He stripped her without word and took her body once again...

---

Outside Siegfried's room, Greed sank into the shadows, appearing instead in the domicile of the British woman, bathing herself before she would rest.

"Isabella Valentine," Greed breathed out, smiling pleasantly.

Ivy may have been naked, but she kept her Ivy Blade nearby at all times, and drew it, lifting herself from her bathwater and assuming her fighting stance. "Who are you? Get out of my room this instant!"

Greed turned his head, closing his eyes, conveying modesty and egalitarian respect quite well. "I don't mean to disturb you, but I have information you might find useful. Information I needed to give out before the one-eyed knight succeeded in destroying it all."

"The one-eyed knight?" Ivy asked, placing her clothes back on. "Zasalamel?"

"Oh, yes," Greed replied. "He is in this country, ever impeding your progress...destroying as much as he can in their history of medical and alchemic advancement. He does this because he knows you are here."

Ivy was apprehensive. Zasalamel was extremely dangerous, to say the least. After integrating with the second Soul Blade, Ivy was reasonably suspicious of strangers who seemed to appear from nowhere.

But she was still a vain, ill-tempered woman, and revenge was something she could scarcely hope to resist. "Where is he?" Ivy demanded. "Tell me, before I decide to kill you."

"In an underground sanctum once used by the Fu-Ma ninja clan," Greed answered.

Ivy extended the disjointed parts of the Ivy Blade. "Who are you? How did you come into possessing this information?"

"My name is Greed," he replied. "I was once an ally of the Fu-Ma ninjas. I am not powerful enough to destroy him, so I came here, where the missing-nin was."

"Taki, you mean?" Ivy asked, doing her level best to contain the annoyance she felt toward the Japanese woman. "Why did you approach me instead of her?"

"You have fought him before," Greed replied. "He said he battled a woman with white hair..."

Ivy considered this. There were definitely some holes in his story, but he seemed respectful of her and genuinely frightened of Zasalamel...and he _was_ an old man, so it was unlikely he could harm her in any way.

And, of course, she had wanted another battle with the man with the scythe. Now more so than ever before...She had come to value her independence more than anything after control of her own body had been stripped from her by the will of the Soul Blade, and strongly felt that everything she and the others were being put through was all part of some scheme Zasalamel had designed. Before the experience of having utterly no control over her body, she would merely have hated the thought of someone controlling her life, her destiny, from the shadows. Now, the word 'hate' was nowhere near strong enough.

"Take me to him," Ivy instructed.

Agreeing to her demand, Greed led Isabella Valentine out into the night, away from the protection of her allies and into a dark abode. When the time was right, he would lure Zasalamel there, and let them hack away at each other.

---

Zasalamel himself, meanwhile, had spent much more time in quiet repose than ever before, reflecting on Greed's words. Though he was certain he had grown beyond the strength of any mortal human, his magical powers seemed to pale in comparison against adversaries much like himself, that had cast off the laws of causality.

Keres, the guardian in Egypt, who walked on forever, incapable of feeling harm.

Necrid, the monster that could not be contained and he'd just barely managed to defeat.

And Greed, whom even decapitation could not harm.

Strangely enough, Greed appeared before him, climbing forth from the shadows once again. "Hey," he said. "Want to fight again?"

Zasalamel glared at him with his remaining eye.

"You've been approaching this all wrong," Greed told him. "If you want to defeat Siegfried and his friends, you cannot fling a single minion at them. You must fight them yourself, and systematically eliminate them one by one."

"I don't need your - " Zasalamel did not get to finish his thought as Greed grabbed him, pulling him through the shadows and placing him on a new surface, specifically a large platform before a Buddha statue.

Greed smiled at Zasalamel before vanishing again, leaving Zasalamel in the dim torchlight...

"Greed? Where are you?!" demanded the familiar voice, as Isabella descended towards the light source, only to stop herself and glance over at Zasalamel, standing in the center of the platform.

Zasalamel narrowed his eye and turned away, uninterested in doing battle with her again.

"Come back here!" Ivy roared, lancing out the Ivy Blade and wrapping it onto Zasalamel's powerfully built arm, placing her grasp firmly upon him.

Zasalamel's golden eye glinted in the torchlight. "Release me, Miss Valentine."

Ivy sneered. "You have two things I want. The first is the method needed to separate the Soul Embrace." She separated two blades from the chain, each twisting through the air, hovering on either side of her. "The second is your life."

Zasalamel shrugged, gripping his scythe with both hands. "So be it." He turned to face her, and she pulled the Ivy Blade from his arm, allowing it to reform.

Ivy smirked, lifting her beloved weapon over her head. "Dance!"

---

Greed reappeared in the dark domain, kneeling before the council once again.

**"Things are progressing well, Greed. What plan have you to sway the former Azure Knight?"**

"A very simple one," Greed replied. "I'm on my way now."

**"Remember, Greed...we expect prompt results."**

Greed nodded and dropped into the shadows, returning to the hotel, and the room where Siegfried Schtauffen sat, an quietly sleeping Tira by his side. Greed stepped towards his armored back, his kunai at the ready by his side.

"What do you want?" Siegfried asked, not turning his head.

"Ah, you remember me," Greed said. "I was hoping for a chance to talk...or have you been hearing enough voices in your head lately?"

Siegfried lifted himself, lifting the Requiem. "Yes. I've had enough. If you won't shut up, I'll keep you from talking ever again."

Greed shrugged, turning his own back to Siegfried. "Very well...I'll be waiting outside." He sank into the floor, moving through darkness the same way Zasalamel did. Siegfried began the descent from the hotel room, carelessly leaving behind the Soul Embrace...even as Greed's hand reached back up and grasped the sack, dragging it down along with him.

---

Ivy, meanwhile, twirled her right leg, spinning in place as her whip extended out towards Zasalamel. He deflected her attack with ease, before leaping forth, somersaulting through the air and cutting down with his scythe, severing one of her shoulder straps and breaking apart her outfit before he landed.

"What are you doing?" Ivy demanded, hemming her white garb as quickly as she could. "Trying to sneak a look?"

"Do not flatter yourself," Zasalamel replied calmly. "You attacked me; I am merely defending myself."

Ivy grimaced. It was no surprise the fight was proving troublesome, and she was having just a few second thoughts..."Well, aren't we cheeky?" Her arrogant smirk returned at once. "This should be fun." She whipped outwards again, this time encircling her sword around her body, allowing herself a decadent laugh as she unleashed the sword's segments at Zasalamel again...only for the white cloaked moor to simply lower himself and roll over to her, standing up at full height once more. Ivy attempted to strike him again, but Zasalamel twirled his scythe in his hand, knocking her weaponry aside and slashing her across the stomach and torso, leaving a deep cut.

Ivy had time only to leap aside as Zasalamel attempted to strike again. She picked up her Ivy Blade and broke it apart again, using the sword's individual fragments to cover her wound from another strike, before attempting to hit Zasalamel again. Zasalamel twisted aside and delivered a kick to Ivy's unguarded head, flooring her in swift, easy movement.

"I spared you once before," Zasalamel told her. "I will not extend the courtesy again."

Ivy panted, her vision growing progressively hazier...

---

Siegfried stepped out into the dark, empty street, Requiem at the ready, as he glanced about in search of Greed...but didn't have far to look, as the old man in the green tunic stood out away from the inn, several yards off. He waved at Siegfried before breaking into a run, heading off into the darkness.

At first, Siegfried had no intention of chasing after, until he noticed something on Greed's shoulder...slung over sat a familiar sack, with the hilt of a powerful blade just barely sticking out. At once Siegfried raced after Greed in the night, doing his best to keep up in his bulky armor.

He found himself once again before the entrance to the Fu-Ma ninjas' underground sanctum, and Greed waited for him, clutching the sack in his left hand.

"Ah, hello again," Greed greeted. "Can't bear to leave your precious sword's side, can you?"

"Shut up," Siegfried snarled.

"My, how testy," Greed observed. "You can't bear to lose anything you've had in your possession, can you? I can relate."

"Shut up," Siegfried said again.

Greed shrugged. "Very well, let's get to it," he began to reveal the Soul Embrace, allowing the cloth bindings to fall aside as he grasped it with both hands.

"Set it down," Siegfried ordered, his eyes widened and teeth gnashing in obvious anger. "Now."

Greed smiled. "Do you want it back? Do you want to draw on the power, and let evil seep through you again?"

"I SAID SET IT DOWN!"

Siegfried slashed, and Greed dropped the Soul Embrace in order to flip away, allowing it to land harmlessly on the ground.

"Or is it that you no longer need the sword, and have let your own evil out instead?" Greed asked.

Siegfried struck at him, but Greed leapt aside, back flipping underneath the wide arc of the Requiem. Siegfried then attempted a vertical slash, but his attack was parried between the twin blades of Greed's second kunai, Void.

"Your anger and your lust have grown progressively stronger during this journey," Greed observed, twirling his legs around to kick Siegfried away from him. "Your need to dominate and destroy is consuming you, and darkness follows your every movement."

"Shut up!" Siegfried snapped, slashing at Greed again, only for the old man to vanish in sudden movement and reappear behind Siegfried, striking the back of his head with the first kunai, Austere.

"You know it's true," Greed told him. "Your sins are haunting you. Your redemption is but an illusion, just like the dear father you tried to revive." Greed twirled aside as Siegfried slashed at him again, enraged. "What's the matter, can't you destroy me? All you need to do is use the power of the evil blade...or the evil heart, beating within you now."

"Never!" Siegfried shouted, cutting forth again, only for Greed to block the attack, crossing his two blades and allowing himself to be pushed back a few feet.

"Do you feel the power coursing through you?" Greed asked. "Maybe you don't need the sword's power...you'll be consumed by evil one way or another."

Greed set his knives back in their clasps, smiling his toothless smile at Siegfried. "This journey has one of two conclusions. Either you will turn to the sword, and the world will be swallowed up by the evil of the Azure Knight...or the world will be swallowed up by the evil of Siegfried Schtauffen."

With that said, Greed was gone. Siegfried immediately collected the Soul Embrace, but the instant he touched the blade:

He recoiled, as the eye on the Soul Edge's side turned up, looking at him. In the glazed reflection, there stood Siegfried - not Nightmare - raising a deformed claw of a right arm and laughing as he stood over the bodies of countless men and women, his traveling companions looking on in horror as he came to take them...

Siegfried at once tossed the cloth back over the Soul Embrace, and prepared to leave, when he heard the sounds of clashing steel from further inside the building, and stepped in to investigate...to see Zasalamel tossing Ivy around like a rag doll, her Ivy Blade constantly blocked by the man's scythe.

Siegfried did not feel enmity towards any living being, or at least, he never had before. He hated Nightmare, and he hated the Soul Edge, but even monsters like Cervantes and Astaroth did not quite merit 'hate.'

Zasalamel did.

Growling with animalistic fervor, Siegfried leapt into the fray, landing at Ivy's side. "Zasalamel..."

Zasalamel turned his single blue eye on Siegfried. "Ah...at last, I have you where you need to be." He smiled, raising his right arm. "Give the sword to me, and this battle will finally be over."

Siegfried slashed with the Requiem, and Zasalamel leapt backwards, raising his scythe. "Very well..." Zasalamel slashed forth, but Siegfried slashed right back, overwhelming Zasalamel's own considerable strength and cutting the cloaked man across the cheek.

Zasalamel was astonished. He'd been struck before, but never had an otherwise normal human managed to break through his offense...

_"You aren't as powerful - or as charismatic - as you think you are."_

_"Siegfried is just a mortal man."_

Siegfried's eyes were alight with fury, and his teeth clenched tightly together, and his breathing harsher than even the wounded Ivy, who was just as shocked at Siegfried's anger.

Zasalamel drew back into the shadows without a word, leaving only a few drops of blood where he'd stood.

Siegfried turned to Ivy, helping her up and examining her wound. Though he was now calmer, Ivy could still see the malice clearly in his eyes.

---

On the Indian border, Maxi had acclimated quite well to his new companion, and had grown closer to her in the short time they'd journeyed together, regardless of funds or lack of familiarity.

Hence he assisted her in battling a small group of armored men, wielding lances and axes and attacking them relentlessly. Xianghua was easily outgunned with her short sword, and Maxi's own nunchaku were unable to get around the enemies' longer weapons.

Cornered, the two stood back to back as four armored enemies closed upon them, until all four were struck by the spinning of a staff, as a single man dropped down beside them, twirling the sacred Kali-Yuga upon his shoulder.

"It's been a while," he said, "Since we've been together like this, hasn't it?"

"Kilik!" Xianghua said, delighted.

Maxi glanced at this man, even as Kilik focused intently on their enemies. He, too, had some since of familiarity... but there would be time to talk later. Maxi leapt out, and Xianghua moved to Kilik's side, as the three fended off the warriors.

---

Siegfried had set Ivy down to recuperate, not bothering to question her about her confrontation with Zasalamel. Instead, he returned to his room, where Tira now sat, wide awake.

"Where were you, Master?"

"I was -" Siegfried began, but stopped. "Don't concern yourself. Go to sleep."

"Master?"

"Go to sleep," Siegfried repeated, setting the Soul Embrace by his bedside and lying down, turning away from her.

Just as the eye of Soul Edge - concealed within the sack - turned towards him with delight.


	39. She Who Entangles Men

_Honestly… have we EVER had a good day?_

Cassandra stamped her foot impatiently as she waited for everyone but herself to set the tents up. Normally she'd be helping Sophitia to pitch theirs, but she was currently occupied setting up the evening's campfire...well, that, and sulking.

_We just keep going from one tragedy to another! I wanted to go on an adventure and really enjoy my life, but we never stop and do anything fun! It's always Soul Embrace this, Soul Embrace that..._

Siegfried dropped one edge of the tent stake prematurely, causing the structure (and Siegfried himself) to topple forward in a heap. Ivy made a discourteous remark, and Tira immediately came to her self-proclaimed Masters defense, hands already starting to reach for her ringblade.

_The only person I ever get to talk to is Sophie. Setsuka asked for my advice once, sure...and then proceeded to __**never talk to me again**_

She knew that wasn't entirely true, but a sense of exaggeration often accompanied sulking. _I always figured that on an adventure, I'd spend less time fighting for my life and more time having parties, having fun, having romances..._

That last bit just ticked her off even more. The man she had attempted to romance had rejected her. Sure, he'd been right; she really should've waited for someone she loved to give herself to - but those words had just intensified her fondness for Siegfried.

It had begun with a simple motivation: she wanted what Sophitia had; a handsome man who cared for her and embraced her. Siegfried was the only male they were traveling with, and was absolutely gorgeous, so it wasn't too surprising she'd fallen for him.

But Siegfried was already in a relationship...of sorts...and to call it 'complicated' didn't even begin to do it justice. Tira had been traveling with him since long before she'd met Siegfried, and it was kind of hard to turn a blind eye to their routine and suspicious coinciding disappearances. Cassandra had tried to visit Siegfried in the night while staying at the inn, only to hear cries of pleasure behind the wooden frame, to remind her that Siegfried had someone else he wanted to embrace.

That hadn't sat well with her either; especially after she'd seen Siegfried making love to Sophitia, something she had to cheat on her husband to accomplish. Rothion may well have deserved that, but it still hadn't done much for Cassandra.

She was aware she was young, but not entirely aware of her naïveté; her views on marriage and love were determined by the stories of Athens and the collected books from the known world. A hero saved a woman, was faithful to her, loved her and only her for all their lives, and they lived happily ever after.

Well, some of the time, anyway. She could forgive him for his past womanizing, if she could demonstrate to him that she was worthy of being his one and only lover.

But it'd be difficult to find time alone with him, especially since they kept moving at such a hurried pace. Everyone was exhausted by day's end from all their forced marching, and the group was slowly getting less sociable; no one had the energy or the desire to talk very much.

With none of the other women to confide in, and Sophitia herself now more a rival for Siegfried's affections than a source of support, Cassandra would need to take action herself.

"Isn't the fire ready yet, girl?"

Cassandra glared at Ivy, the older British woman looking rather displeased.

"What? It's getting there!" Cassandra told her, resuming her work at last.

_This really isn't what I was expecting life to be like when I went out on my journey. All my comrades are fighting with each other, and the man I love is constantly being pulled away by the others...even my own sister!_

_I never thought I'd wish that I had just stayed at the bakery..._

---

Another night of traveling between the fields and the waters separating the islands of Japan, Siegfried and his company had come to rest for another evening. Though normally they'd set up a fire and discuss things with one another, tonight no one seemed particularly energetic; and they hadn't been very involved at all since the events with Taki and Ivy, and then again with Zasalamel.

Siegfried - usually the perpetual peacemaker of the group - had adopted a stoic, determined silence since their last confrontation with yet another evil force. Siegfried certainly hoped that he'd seen the last of them, but knew better.

_**I will show you the greatest nightmare!**_

Siegfried's eyes widened as he turned his attention to the Soul Embrace, but saw only its cloth covering and he calmed down...just a little bit, anyway. He stood up and stretched a bit, removing some of his armor and setting it beside the Soul Embrace and the sleeping Tira, lying beside their precious weapon instead of her usual tree branch.

They'd made camp at the edge of a grove, with a freshwater stream and a forest filled with all kinds of fruits. Setsuka, though still acting as their guide, wasn't familiar with the indigenous foods, but Taki had confirmed they weren't dangerous, so a few had been gathered up and added to their dwindling supply of rations. Siegfried had a full stomach, and was looking forward to the night's rest...

...but he was far, far from satisfied.

Much as he enjoyed the fact that his traveling companions were all beautiful women, the increased numbers had wreaked considerable havoc with his usual night schedule. When they stayed at inns and divided into rooms, he could turn to Tira for what he needed, but when forced to stay in the wilderness...he had considerably fewer options.

Sophitia had more or less taken Tira under her wing and was spending more and more time with the girl, almost maternally. Cassandra was almost never out of Sophitia's sight, and Ivy, just when she seemed to be making progress towards becoming more socialable, had become increasingly distant and withdrawn from the others. Taki was still injured, and sleeping very deeply whenever she had an opportunity to rest, and Setsuka had resolved to help Siegfried overcome his lustful tendencies, so despite her constant flirting and her little winks, he'd yet to come to seek her company.

So, he just sat outside his tent, with Tira curled up like a cat. He was staring at the dying fire, and knowing his thoughts would plague him at least another hour, Siegfried turned from the stone and wood and headed into the grove, in search of wood dry enough to use for his fire.

As he stopped by the spring, a pile of clothing on a rock by the water's bank elicited shock, although the naked back of a young blonde woman surprised him more. At first Siegfried intended to withdraw himself, but paused, swayed by thoughts that recently had been increasing in frequency.

_I thought she'd already gone to bed...why is she bathing now? And why isn't she -_ He abruptly stopped thinking as Cassandra turned ever so slightly, revealing the side of her left breast.

Cassandra wasn't quite as developed as Sophitia, and her shorter hair wasn't as appealing to him, but Siegfried saw little reason to be choosy. She was undeniably attractive, and undeniably naked...

_...Stop it. You've been making progress. You can escape; you just have to show a little self-control. Cassandra made advances on me before and I was able to resist then..._

But this only caused memories of a certain night to come rushing back.

**"...Siegfried...Do you remember all the things I said to Sophitia today? How...she has everything I don't have...everything I wish I had? ...I want to...have one of the things she has. ...Or, maybe I should say, I want to lose one of the things she's lost."**

Siegfried remembered that night outside the temple ruins, when Cassandra had come into his tent. He remembered that nervousness, that slow manner of speaking. He remembered that she was younger than her sister, less womanly, less beautiful...but her girlish charm didn't make her any less appealing to him.

**"...Siegfried, I've...wanted you...since I first saw you...I want you to...be the one...to take my maidenhood..."**

And then she'd lowered her shirt, exposing her breasts to him. He had felt them, as she willingly took his hands and placed them upon her, to enjoy the feel of her flesh.

**"Siegfried, would you...would you be the one?"**

And her eyes had been pleading him, since he'd tried to remain stoic, and she wanted him to give in to his desire. No, more than that, to give her pleasure and instill within her the feeling of love, if only temporarily. She'd sat on his lap, grinding their hips together, and she'd kissed him, and he'd kissed her back with all the fervor he could conjure, intoxicated by both her words and the thought of lying with her only hours after he'd had her sister.

Yet, he had refused her. Dissuaded her from going through with it and waiting until she'd found the man she loved.

Tonight, he didn't have that kind of restraint.

_Don't you remember, Siegfried? She was a test you had passed. You managed to escape before you got sucked back into the cycle. If you take back your word, you'll have eradicated the value of anything you taught her, and you'll continue being a slave to your desires._

That was just an irritating voice in the back of Siegfried's head. He hated to hear those voices in his head, and knew the easiest way to silence them. It was so much easier to enjoy the pleasure, and to hear the loving cries of the woman lying beneath him.

It was so much easier to just give in...

"Cassandra." He said aloud.

The young Athenian woman turned and immediately sank down into the water, leaving only her head visible. It was hard to tell with only the reflection of moonlight on the water's surface, but Siegfried could tell her cheeks had turned bright red.

"Siegfried?! What are you - "

"May I join you?" He interjected, his voice unwaveringly calm.

"J-Join me? In the water? But, Siegfried, I - "

"A 'yes' or a 'no' would be fine, Cassandra." Siegfried told her, again with eerie calm.

"Um...well, okay, sure." She swam off to one corner, still casting her gaze at him.

Siegfried disrobed, slowly, but purposefully so. Normally, he'd have been embarrassed about changing clothes in clear view of a woman, but tonight, he had a plan in mind. Armed with the knowledge that Cassandra had already sought his embrace and sought to examine his form, he spent several seconds longer so she could get a thorough look at him - all of him.

By the time he'd stepped into the cool water with her, he already knew she'd be his. Her face was burning red, her short blonde locks were dripping with not just water, but sweat. He treaded through the water, keeping his intense blue eyes focused upon her.

"Siegfried, what are you...?"

"Do you remember the night when you came to my tent and asked me to 'help' you?"

Cassandra knew exactly what he was talking about. She didn't have to provide any verbal cues; it was already clear to him. Those blue eyes of hers were yearning for him.

And even if they weren't, they would still answer his desires.

"I don't know if it's too late, but I want to take you up on that offer." Siegfried told her. "I want to hold you. Kiss you. Embrace you. ...Make love to you."

The last four were the magic words. Cassandra gave a short yelp beneath the water's surface and slowly nodded, emerging ever so shyly. "...D...Do you remember what I asked you...?"

Siegfried grinned. "Don't worry - I'll guide you...and I'll be gentle."

He lifted the young blonde woman up onto the cool stones at the water's edge and buried his face in her breasts, provoking a short moan from the younger Alexandra sister.

_I just lied to her. I told her what I knew she wanted to hear so I could do this to her._

Siegfried reached his mouth upwards and found Cassandra's lips, planting his to hers and letting his hands take over massaging her chest, and slowly but surely moving downwards.

She'd asked him to be gentle. Normally he'd spend more time with her breasts, her lips, her neck...but tonight, he was operating entirely on his craven lust for a young woman. It wasn't a want; it was a psychological need.

His fingers found her entrance and he inserted them, and the sound of Cassandra's deep moan was sweet music to his ears. He drew his face away from hers and placed it on the side of her neck, observing her cheeks flush an even deeper red and her eyes shut in evident satisfaction.

"I want to be inside you. " Siegfried told her, speaking in little more than a whisper. He was losing some of the calm now; his voice was breaking, his words less precise. "I'm going to go in, Cassandra."

Cassandra's eyes opened, her blue gaze held to Siegfried's. She gave a slow nod, looking apprehensive. Siegfried turned his face from her so she wouldn't see his lewd grin, and managed to conceal this as he repositioned himself, sliding up from beneath her...and then plunging deep into her.

Cassandra gave a cry and pressed her arms to Siegfried's neck and shoulder blade, but that did little to deter him. "Spread your legs wider." Siegfried instructed, sounding harsher than he'd intended. He began a slow, steady thrust, gradually picking up the pace as his tension grew.

_And now I've lied to her again. I've lost sight of her wish...all I care about is my own moment of pleasure._

Between her cries, Cassandra obeyed Siegfried's request and spread her legs wider for him, allowing him better access within her as he continued his manic thrust upwards.

_I can't control myself. I can't resist._

Cassandra's grasp became looser as she wrapped her arms to hold her to him, rather than to cope with the pain he'd caused her. He could feel all kinds of fluids leaking out upon him, and knew quite well he'd successfully torn away her virginity.

He growled and pressed his head again to her breasts, suckling upon them and caressing them. Beforehand he might've asked her to pleasure him with those breasts, but they were too small for his liking. He would need Ivy, or Sophitia.

_What am I thinking?_ Siegfried asked himself. _I'm not supposed to desire more than woman. I'm not supposed to be so unfaithful._

He turned his gaze back to Cassandra's breasts, smaller than he preferred, but still the warm, inviting flesh of a woman.

_I can't stop. I need her. No, not her - I need the pleasure._

Images of murder flashed through his head. Those were the very things he needed to silence. The very things he needed pleasure for to begin with.

_I can't stop._

His climax came out of the blue. He wasn't sure if Cassandra had done the same, but he didn't honestly care, as he pulled himself from her and left her against the cold stone.

Cassandra's breathing was heavy. Her body was covered in both sweat and water, and her flesh was burning hotter than ever. Even in the dim moonlight, Siegfried could make out the steady trail of red blood sifting in the water away from her.

After his ejaculation, he felt weak; lethargic. He too was breathing heavily, and though satisfied, felt that familiar sting of regret, as he'd once again allowed himself to be carried away by his desires.

Normally in such situations he'd ended up feeling guilty and disloyal. This time, however, he felt angry.

_More._

Siegfried's body had expended energy, but the shameful memories and regret had not been silenced. Though he'd felt pleasure, he'd yet to be satisfied. He felt his hand grasp Cassandra's blonde locks as he prepared to enter her again, grinning animalistically at the thought.

_More. I want more. I need more._

Cassandra opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised. "Siegfried?"

"I told you I'd teach you," Siegfried reminded her, his voice falling lower as his desire only grew more inflamed. "That was only the first lesson."

_An endless cycle that will never be broken._

_I have to use her. I can't stop._

And he continued, and the moonlight changed positions as frequently as Siegfried and Cassandra did. His lust was all the force he needed to power his now-exhausted body.

And not far off, drawn by the sound of cries, Tira observed in the darkness. It wasn't the first time she'd seen her Master sneak off to engage in such activities...and she doubted it would be the last.

---

The following morning, Siegfried awoke, still feeling tired. What few hours of sleep he had received had done little to reenergize him. He may have enjoyed the actions of the previous night, but he was once again bombarded by the painful memories and the slow, creeping feeling of his lust returning in force.

He stepped out of his tent and found his companions all packing up and preparing to resume their travel. Cassandra glanced his way from over alongside Sophitia and Tira but looked away just as quickly, intentionally avoiding his gaze.

She wasn't the best he'd had. Had he told her that? Had he let her know that she was just his proxy?

Sophitia was attempting to be friendly with Tira again, and as Siegfried observed them standing side-by-side, he thought that perhaps he might like them together...

...and this time, he didn't scold himself for having the thought.

---

Cassandra, meanwhile, drew back from the group to reflect. She'd finally made love to Siegfried, as she'd intended to do since they met. They'd made love in the water, under the moonlight, alone together and enjoying their passion. Sure she'd felt pleasure, but...

...there was something about Siegfried. He'd been distant. He'd been harsher than she expected. He hadn't been as gentle as he'd promised to be. He'd taken her virginity, and he hadn't even stopped to show any gratitude.

...And he'd frightened her. The eerie calm in his voice and the simple instructions he'd given...she couldn't help but feel he'd used her, even if she had agreed to all of his requests beforehand and even sought them out.

Yet now, the event had passed. She had expected it to be a special, heartwarming, _romantic _moment...but it was just a past event. Siegfried didn't seem too keen on mentioning it, and giving the way he'd behaved last night, she didn't expect that he would stop lying with the others and seek a monogamous relationship with her and only her.

In fact, all she really felt had happened was she'd experienced another disappointment. Her adventure had been given that romantic conquest she'd been seeking.

There just wasn't going to be a happily ever after.


	40. Bird in Flight

Tira was a bird in flight.

She was a shadow flitting from perch to perch across the rooftops of one of Japan's larger cities. She sailed through the air in a continuous cycle of swinging from one overhang to the next without pause. If an object stood out more than two inches and was stable enough to hold her weight, it was as good a hold as any other. She was constantly in motion, fluidly moving from one grip to the next. She did not merely jump - she vaulted, somersaulted, flew to each destination. She moved efficiently - but with grace and elegance as well. Her movements were physical art.

It was the first time she had moved in such a way since the Bird of Passage had been dissolved by the Evil Seed. Tira almost scoffed at the irony - in her old life, she had considered herself a bird trapped in a cage. Having lived in servitude since the day she had been born, her mind had been conditioned to follow orders, and had never developed the ability to make decisions for herself. Free will was confusing to her even as a concept; the inside of Tira's mind was a tempestuous place, and she was missing many key elements that most people had psychologically developed from a young age. She had lived a life of nothing but following the orders of others - it was all she knew, and so it made her happy - but at the same time, she knew she was missing something. She knew she was incomplete as a person. She knew she was devoid of freedom, whatever it was - she knew she was a bird trapped in a cage.

Yet the destruction of the Bird of Passage had not come as any kind of relief. She had lost the few people she might have ventured to call friends, and many people whom she had thought of as being closer than family. More than that, she had lost her way; she had obtained freedom, but she was unaccustomed to it, unaware of its meaning, ill-suited for such a life. Without orders, without commands, without a will to follow, she was without direction, and so she was lost. Without a master, she was less than a bird trapped in a cage; she was a lost, stray dog, wandering aimlessly through a chaotic world she could not comprehend.

She thought that he was the ultimate solution to her problems. She thought he sounded like the perfect Master for her. Their similarities seemed to be endless; he had been an unwilling 'servant', he had been traumatized by his experience of not having his own free will, he was a person with a side of light and a side of darkness - exactly how Tira had felt about herself after obtaining freedom. She thought she had found someone identical to herself as could be.

When she first met him, she found him to be a respectable and honorable man. She was infatuated with him before she even met him, and his charms caused him to appeal to her even more. He was a handsome man with a strong and fit body, and caused her to feel desires she had never felt with such intensity; she quickly developed a fondness for her Master's nocturnal wishes, grew to yearn for them herself, and took great pleasure in fulfilling his wants and needs.

But Tira's newfound appreciation for physical ecstasy was repeatedly mired by the habits that her Master developed. She was his servant - no, she received no payment, so she was less than that, his slave - and he was by no means bound to her, yet she could not help but be stung by deep feelings of jealousy when he laid with other women, and although she knew he was not his lover, but his property, she could not help but feel that he was being unfaithful to her.

Yet, she knew it was not her place to feel such emotions. She hid those emotions, kept them tied down and bottled up, just like the way she'd learned to restrain her thirst for blood to appease her Master's pacifistic ideals. But after Ivy, there was Sophitia. And after Sophitia, there was Cassandra. And although Siegfried used Tira to satisfy his desires almost every night, there were nights when he would be absent, leaving her cold and alone, as he warmed the bed of one of the other women yet again.

It was a taboo subject between them; even when they would harmlessly tease one another, they would never bring up the subject of Siegfried's polygamic tendencies. It would destroy the peace between them, overcomplicate matters, cause undue drama and tension; and so they all ignored the fact that they were laying with the same man. Perhaps some of them tried to pretend it wasn't true, and comforted themselves with the lack of ironclad evidence; but deep down, every woman knew it. Yet, despite this, it was not a source of ire or discord amongst them. During the months of travel between them, it had become expected - and from this, ordinary - and from this, accepted. It was such a recognized fact, such a core part of their lifestyle, such a routine happening, that, although the subject was avoided for politeness, everyone had more or less come to terms with it.

Siegfried and his band were free of the taboos of society; they were all aware that human beings were creatures with natural sexual desire. They accepted this, they spoke not of it for civility, but when night fell, and desire ran too strong...

Tira nearly lost her grip on the ledge she'd grabbed. She clutched it tighter, and then used it to swing herself up onto the rooftop. She panted heavily, not realizing how exhausted she had become. But was her fatigue a result of her exertion - or her frustration?

Although Tira, too, recognized sexual desire as a natural part of life experienced by both sexes, this did nothing to quell the feelings of jealousy and betrayal that surged within her when she saw or heard her Master satisfying another woman. He did not respect her. Her only value to him was to serve the purpose of sexual relief. He acted without consideration for her feelings. Of course he did; he was her Master, she was his slave. He had no obligation to treat her as anything more than an object.

_...But that doesn't make it hurt any less._

When she first met him, Siegfried was a good man - a noble, upstanding gentleman, a fine example of what a man should be. He was virtuous, always acted with integrity, and his system of ethics and his moral code were far more honorable than most.

But he had degenerated.

He had lost his admirable self-restraint. He no longer showed any sign of discipline regarding his nightly habits. He disregarded her physical well-being, being rough with her to the point of pain, and his recent conquest of Cassandra showed that what appeared to be indications of improvement had been false signs. He had ceased to shun desires that he previously held to be immoral evils, and had instead embraced them. That aside, he was still the same ethical gentleman he had always been during the daytime - but there were two sides to Siegfried. One light, and one dark.

A similarity Tira had seen from the beginning, something she had interpreted as a good sign - but one she now bemoaned. This time, the irony truly did force a scoff from her lips; she thought that by bestowing herself to Siegfried, she would regain the life and comfort she had with the Bird of Passage; but Siegfried never gave her orders outside of a bed, and she spent most of her time standing around or traveling slowly by foot.

It was the pent-up desire for the true physical exertion that had been a staple of her previous life that led Tira to embark on this bout of roof-hopping. There was also a sensation that came with traveling in such a fluid way...

Freedom.

She had never felt more free, and had never extracted such pleasure from the notion of freedom, than when she traveled like this, soaring across the top of a city in acrobatic feats that flowed seamlessly from one to the next, in constant motion. She had chosen to spend a night like this to return to the roots she missed, to feel what she felt her life was lacking.

_Yes, chose. I chose to spend my night this way. I made the decision myself._

The time Tira had spent with the others had not directly taught her about self-governing or about freedom, but had definitely taught her one thing - the kind of life she did not wish to lead. A life of uncertainty, a life of slow progression, a life of monotony broken up by short bursts of action.

_...I despise my life. I despise living this way. I don't want to live like this. I hate the way Master mistreats me. I hate the way he sleeps with other women. I hate the way he has changed._

_I loathe Siegfrie -_

Tira visibly flinched.

_I don't mean that. I just got excited and emotional and started thinking a lot of angry things. I don't actually mean that. There are some things about my life that I'm not satisfied with, but things aren't really that bad..._

Tira sighed. She was lying to herself, and she knew it.

But still, she would not let herself admit that last thought. Any kind of disloyalty was the worst offense a slave could commit to her Master.

_...Slave...Master…loyalty...grand terms when I'm just his sex toy. This form of servitude is not rewarding. This is not what I had in mind. I was fine with this at first, but it has moved from being unsatisfactory to being painful. I receive no orders of significance, I am forced to endure mistreatment from a man who does not care about me, I am on a journey which only seems to be more and more futile with every new development..._

_...What do I do? Do I forsake my Master? Do I abandon Siegfried and the others? I doubt I would be missed. But where do I go from there? Do I find another Master? Should I attempt to make my own choices in life? I think I've finally learned how to start making decisions for myself._

Tira was feeling more and more "free" by the moment. She felt as if the shackles of oppression were being torn off of her - but at the same time, she felt uneasy, indecisive. Despite her development and growth, was she ready for a new life?

Suddenly, Tira felt something. An unnerving feeling. She was glad to be distracted from such grave and weighty thoughts, and turned her attention to this new sensation. It was a familiar one...the aura of Soul Edge. A fragment was nearby. The mansion she had perched atop of - it housed a shard.

---

"I've been thinking about what we should do next, and I think I have a sound plan in mind. As we have learned, the only thing that can affect the Soul Embrace is another Soul Blade. And we've seen that it's possible to forge a new Blade using existing shards of the shattered Soul Edge. If Soul Calibur was made from a purified shard of Soul Edge, then perhaps we could do the same - if we collected shards of Soul Edge and purified them, we should be able to forge a new Soul Calibur. We could then use it to turn the Embrace's stalemate in Soul Calibur's favor, and then use the two holy swords to destroy the demonic sword. In this case, our new objective should be to seek out as many Soul Edge shards as we can find. Taki could purify the shards for us. Hephaestus seemed to be willing to cooperate with us - he could forge the swords."

"That's an ambitious plan."

"Right now, it seems like the most viable option."

---

Tira cocked her head from side to side in thought. If there was a shard inside of this mansion, and her Master's new, reasonable plan called for shards...he would be grateful and pleased with her if she returned to him with a shard. Just a moment ago, she had just been contemplating whether or not she would abandon him, yet now she was considering a way to help him. _What do I truly want? ...Perhaps I was too hasty and too emotional when I considered leaving my Master. Perhaps I should spend more time thinking this through. At the least, I should bring this shard back and see if it improves the way he treats me. Even after that, if he still fails to value me..._

Tira slipped through an open window. Her mission was on.

---

In a time forgotten, there was a village of ninja, called the Manji clan, hidden away in the forests at the base of Mt. Fuji.

One day, a lord who sought the power of the Manji clan invited its chief to his castle. Due to his old age, the clan's chief would be unable to make the trip, and instead, he sent the strongest warrior of the clan - a ninja named Yoshimitsu - on his behalf. As expected, the lord requested the allegiance of the Manji clan. But the Manji clan preferred to remain hidden due to the current troubled times, and refused to join in the era's petty wars. After a few days' stay at the castle, Yoshimitsu politely denied the lord's request and returned to his village.

Upon his return to the village, Yoshimitsu found it in ruins. The lord had prepared an army in anticipation of the clan's refusal to serve him. The reason the lord had stalled his request and forced Yoshimitsu to stay at the castle was to buy time for his ruthless ambush.

"Either they shall serve me, or I will strike down every last one of them! They are too powerful to remain uncontrolled. Destroy the survivor, as well. He may be the clan's strongest fighter, but he is only one alone."

As the only remaining member of his once proud clan, Yoshimitsu tried to devise a plan to avenge the deaths of his beloved clansmen as he fought off attacks from the lord's men. But he knew he could never match the lord's strength alone. His plan for revenge failed, and in the lord's brutal counter attack, he lost his right arm. All he could manage was to escape into a secret underground water vein only his clan knew about. During the days of drifting in the cold and dark cavern, he was reminded of a tale of an ultimate weapon said to exist across the seas.

"With this weapon of legend, I could crushest all mine enemies! I never believe'd this tale before, but now I feelest it may be the only way left!"

Unable to shake the thoughts from his mind, he traveled westward on his quest for Soul Edge. During his travels, he heard the rumor of the Azure Knight, and saw the remains and tragedies the knight had caused. He felt the despair, hatred, and desires for revenge born from the knight's evil, and thought, "I can never givest up my quest for revenge, but what is the difference betwixt the lord and I, or the Azure Knight? What wilt be left after mine bloody quest for revenge? Is this what the souls of my clan desirest? Vengeance wilt be mine, but if I continuest along this path, I wilt be no better than the lord who destroy'd my clan, or the Azure Knight..."

Yoshimitsu tried to cut down the budding doubt within him, but as he continued his journey, he encountered many remains of massacres, one after another. With each ensuing encounter, the doubt within his heart took root. It was only a matter of time until Yoshimitsu was instead on the trail of the man responsible for these killings. Yoshimitsu followed his trail to Ostrheinsburg Castle, but the castle was enveloped in silence and devoid of any signs of life. Although there were traces of evil energy in the castle, there were no clues about the whereabouts of the mass murderer. Yoshimitsu eventually left the castle behind him.

Soon after his visit to the castle, he noticed something strange. Yoshimitsu sensed the presence of a sinister energy dwelling within his katana. Perhaps the evil spiritual energy that lingered in the castle was drawn to the sword because it had been used to shed blood.

Yoshimitsu swore to quell the negative energy within his sword. The spiritual energy within him that sustained his vengeance until now had a new purpose. The conflict and doubt within Yoshimitsu was finally resolved, and he achieved enlightenment through this new task.

But something unexpected happened.

One night, Yoshimitsu became careless and fell into deep slumber after exhausting his energies on neutralizing the negative spirit within his sword. During his sleep, a thief used the cover of night to steal his sword.

There was no way that the spiritual energy of malevolent hatred and resentment within the sword would dissipate in a day or two. Only misfortune would result if the katana fell into the wrong hands.

While Yoshimitsu traveled the continent in search of his sword, he devoted his life to serving the weak and the underprivileged. Four years passed, and he devised a plan - an attempt to close the gap, even a little, between the haves and the have-nots. His scheme involved the plunder of treasures from the rich to give to the poor - and what better treasures than those said to be held within Vercci's tomb?

Yoshimitsu used all of his skills and abilities to infiltrate the tomb, also known as the Money Pit. As described in rumors, the interior of the tomb was rife with traps. But he was able to reach the treasures without encountering the "Guardian" of the tomb, whom Yoshimitsu was vigilant against. A faint smile unconsciously crept across his face - the riches waiting for his taking were beyond his wildest imagination.

His smile faded when he found something amongst the stockpiles of treasures...his lost sword. And his face became graver when he discovered a throne enshrined in one of the rooms deep within the Money Pit.

Upon the throne was a metal fragment that emanated the same evil aura as his beloved sword.

Shortly after this discovery, Yoshimitsu left the Money Pit with his sword and the metal fragment in hand.

Yoshimitsu thought, "If there art other things that possest this evil within them, they must be foundest and collect'd. The tragedies cause'd by this evil must never be allow'd to happen again!"

Now, there was no more doubt clouding Yoshimitsu's mind. Neither did the cursed items in his possession cast a shadow upon the path that he chose to take. Yoshimitsu set out on a journey to recover his sword and to destroy all of the items that had been tainted by the evil sword.

Unfortunately, those items - including the fragments of the evil sword - had already been scattered to the corners of the earth. Finding and destroying them himself was impossible. Not only that, but while he was concerning himself with the cursed sword fragments, he wouldn't be able to spend time protecting the weak.

As things stood now, he was at a dead end. Faced with the situation, Yoshimitsu devised a plan.

He returned to Japan and recruited ruffians from throughout the land into an organized group of thieves. It was the birth of an organization of chivalrous thieves called the Manjitou.

Using his exceptional combat skill, gifted decisiveness, and ability to put unconventional plans into action, Yoshimitsu became the head of the Manjitou and skillfully organized the group of outcasts. While stealing riches from wealthy nobles and merchants and distributing them to the poor, they destroyed the fragments of the evil weapon that lay scattered throughout the land. It was not an easy task, but with the power of the Manjitou and its carefully-selected, few-but-powerful members, his dream was no longer impossible.

One day, Yoshimitsu devised a robbery greater than any which had come before. The Manjitou would infiltrate the mansion of a famously wealthy usurer and take everything he had. There was also information indicating that a fragment of Soul Edge was hidden in the money-lender's mansion. A careful plan was drawn up, and a massive operation involving the entire Manjitou clan was put into action.

Unfortunately, the plan was doomed to fail.

---

At first, Tira thought she had made a terrible error. Usually, only an awful blunder causes one to face down a large group of warriors. However, these men were not the mansion's guards summoned by someone who had spotted Tira - they did not wear the same outfits of the mansion's security. They were clothed for a covert mission, but had an air of amateurism - they were thieves here to pull a heist. It seems Tira had picked the wrong night to steal from this mansion. And she was standing right in front of the treasure room where the shard was held, too - so close...

"Who's that? She doesn't look like a guard."

"Look at the way she's dressed. She's a concubine."

"Alright, knock her out and carry on."

One of Tira's hands found the inside of her ringblade.

"Wait - look at that thing on her back - it's some kind of weapon."

"So she's an elite guard, then?"

The men were nervous and confused. Tira sighed at their amateurism.

"I think she's like us - here for the money. Or for the shard..." Said a wise-sounding voice that belonged to a man who seemed more competent than his companions. From his manner, he appeared to be their leader. Tira smirked at his guess, giving away its accuracy.

"...Well, this hasn't happened before." The leader said nonchalantly. "I wonder what to do..."

Tira saw one of the leader's fingers twitch, then heard a familiar sound, and knew the danger it signified. She spun so her back was facing the men, and the sedative blow dart that had been shot at her bounced off of her ringblade harmlessly. She slowly turned to face the men, indignation clearly evident on her face.

"How could she react so fast...?" One of them gasped.

The leader's fingers twitched again. Her eyes quickly scanned the group, and she saw several more blow dart pipes raised and aimed her way. She whipped her ringblade off of her back and spun it on her wrist, using it as a shield to deflect the darts that were shot at her.

"Again?"

Tira smirked smugly, but was still annoyed. She drew a tiny throwing-knife from her waist, and pointed it at the leader's hand. "Stop sending signals with your fingers or I'll limit the variety you can use."

The leader smirked, amused. "You're good. However, you are but one, and we are many. You could cut down perhaps one or two of us before losing your life. You seem intelligent. You should know that you cannot survive against these odds. Now do the smart thing, and leave."

"Two things." Tira began. "I could kill you all without sweating, and I was here first. You should be the ones to leave."

The leader sighed, and drew his sword. "We avoid killing at all costs. But if you will fight us, we will have to remove arms until you cease to oppose us. Do you really wish to lose a limb tonight?"

Tira stood silently in consideration. She was not listening to the man's bluffing, but was instead wondering how to best exit the situation. She could burst into the treasure room, grab the shard, and then flee for a window while dodging the men's attacks - easy enough. She could simply flee for a window now to cut down risk and unnecessary trouble. There was also another alternative that she had intentionally been avoiding the consideration of...

_Kill them all._

She had avoided causing bloodshed during her travels with her Master; watching firsthand as his body was used against his will to slaughter innocent lives had given her Master an intense aversion to killing, and a predisposition toward peace and harmonious resolutions. She had followed his example and done her best to never disappoint him by repressing the dark desires that she had not allowed him to learn of...her earliest memories were of killing; it had been a part of her life since early childhood, just as integral to her lifestyle as following the orders of others. She had become so accustomed to taking life that it had progressed from a duty to a psychological requirement; to not kill felt abnormal, to not end life felt unnatural. It had been hard, struggling against her most powerful impulse these many months - but she felt that she had finally recovered from her 'addiction', gained control over her once-maddening bloodlust.

...Until now.

By second nature, she was aware of the most effective ways to kill a human being, even how to kill a group of around a dozen or so like this one without receiving so much as a scratch. Mentally, she drew the path that her ringblade would have to travel through the air to behead them all as quickly as possible. She imagined the state that the room would be in after she was through - it would be a bloodbath. Simply by instinct, she was aware of several dozen different ways to slay every man in this room, and the different combinations and methods she could use continuously ran through her mind...

"Well? Don't keep us waiting here all night." The leader said, snapping Tira away from her killing fantasies and back to reality.

_If I killed these men, Master would be disappointed in me. _Would_ be...if he ever found out. And even if he did, what does it matter he's disappointed in me? He's not especially proud of me now, anyway. And besides that, I find myself caring less and less. I'll let these fools decide if their lives end tonight._ "...Turn around and leave now, or I'll kill all of you." Tira said flatly.

"You've overstepped yourself, girl. You're up against odds you can't beat. We're not going anywhere." The leader said, raising his sword. It would appear that his confidence was genuine, and not simply an attempt to frighten her. He had underestimated her; he sincerely believed he would win if they clashed.

_Overconfident fool._

Tira's lips curled into a smile as she crouched and prepared to leap.

---

The vanguard force sent in specifically to target the fragment was attacked and wiped out in front of the treasure room. Yoshimitsu, who was leading a decoy group to distract the guards, did not learn of this until it was too late. The news that the Manjitou's best men had been eliminated destroyed the chain of command. In the end, half of the clan failed to escape, and were either captured or killed.

Although many clan members were dispirited after this crushing defeat, they still had to save their captured comrades. Immediately, Yoshimitsu led his remaining forces in a rescue operation. The jailbreak was a success. A single member of the vanguard force had survived the massacre by fleeing. He felt great shame for his cowardice, but hoped to redeem himself by giving Yoshimitsu something valuable – a description of the one whom had wiped out his team.

He explained that the one whom had slaughtered his comrades had been a woman clothed in a torn green tunic adorned with feathers, and that she had wielded a giant circular blade.

Yoshimitsu spoke softly to the uneasy men.

"I wilt dealest with this matter. I wilt trackest down the one who slew our brothers, and extractest retribution most fierce. Dismissed." At this short command, the Manjitou silently dispersed.

Yoshimitsu could not allow the dark influence of the cursed sword to stay free. Who was seeking this shard, and why? Whatever their reasons, Yoshimitsu could not allow them to get away with causing the deaths of over half of his men.

As Yoshimitsu climbed atop the prison house and prepared to leave, he admired the view that the high vantage point gave him - and noticed something.

Flitting atop the rooftops of the city was a figure with a large circular object on their back; the object gave off the shine of metal under the moonlight.

_...It would appearest that mine hunt was a short-live'd one._ Yoshimitsu leapt to high into the air, raised his katana above his head, and began to twirl it.

---

Tira awoke to find that her body was burning. Every inch of her skin was submerged in searing heat. Her body was matted with sweat that caused her clothing and hair to cling to her skin. She groaned and writhed. Such heat - she had never felt anything this scorching hot before. She pried her eyes open, and blasts of warm air struck them. She squeezed them tight, but then reopened them. She had to know where she was, what was going on...

She was laying on her back, and with her eyes open, she saw what was over her head - a cave ceiling, or what could pass for one. She struggled to her feet - she was standing on some sort of platform with elaborate engravings - and looked around.

The platform she was standing on was floating on top of a river of lava. The platform floated down the river, traveling through a tunnel. The walls of the tunnel were cave-like, but adorned with sculptures - engravings depicting dragons and snakes, and statues of the same subject - it was almost a temple built into a cave, except the floor was made of flowing lava.

_...Oh. I get it. I died and went to hell._

A chortle emerged from Tira's mouth. Then another. She laughed. She threw her head back, sending a spray of sweat into the air, as she cackled.

"What dost thou findest so amusing, girl?" Came an eerie voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Oh - ha - it's nothing - heh - it's just that, this whole time, I was so worried about Master and my life and everything - but the afterlife is eternity, right? I really should have been thinking about this, instead. All those things I was so worried about - " Tira repressed a snicker. " - none of that matters anymore! I'm dead now. Dead and in hell. And with the blood on my hands, I doubt I could have ever avoided this, anyway. Everything seems to matter so much less once you realize it was all just a brief dream before spending eternity in hell."

"And thou findest this to be funny? Thou art a girl most curious."

A figure dropped down from nowhere, landing on the same platform as Tira. Tira knew it was a demon after taking one look at his face - it was pure white, and monstrous, with a forehead that spread out into five yellowish-red horns. The demon was dressed in elaborate and colorful samurai armor, and the only visible skin on the creature was his naked right arm. It had the same texture and shape as wood, and appeared to be made out of muscles shaped similarly to gears and the sorts of intricate devices found in clockwork. However, it moved and turned, breathing and alive, and Tira knew it could not be mere wood, but this monster's flesh.

"I hath broughtest thou hither to deliverest upon thee the punishment for thine crimes." The demon said, speaking an archaic Western dialect that Tira could hardly understand.

"I'm not stupid, I know what hell is." Tira shot back.

"Hell? This is not hell, girl. But I wilt send thee there soon enough!" The demon moved his bizarre arm to his scabbard, and grasped the hilt of a katana. He drew it out, and held it in a battle posture. "Draw thine weapon. I wouldst not kill an unarmed foe, even one as foul as thee."

"...I fight in hell?" Tira asked, perplexed. She reached back, and felt for her ringblade. It was there. She drew it, and held it out before her in the stance she had adopted so many times before. "...Fine...fine then...if this is the eternity I've earned, so be it...I have to fight for eternity? Fine. I can do that."

The demon lunged forth, and began to attack Tira. He fought with standard sword moves - surprisingly humanlike for a demon. Tira used her ringblade as a shield and blocked his attacks with only moderate effort. He seemed to be a warrior of standard ability, nothing threatening to her. However, as she twirled in a circle to evade an attack, she realized that he was pushing her close to the edge of the platform, and close to falling into the lava below.

Tira somersaulted through the air, landing behind the man. He stabbed his katana backwards, attempting to attack her even while facing away from her. The sword went through the center of her ringblade, narrowly missing Tira's torso, and she jerked her weapon to the side to send the demon's sword astray.

The demon dropped to the surface of the platform and rolled his body along it to reach a location not so close to the lava, and then leapt to his feet and resumed his attack. He progressively became more creative with his sword moves, throwing in kicks, punches, and even a few surprise trick attacks. However, for his added creativity and style, he was only posing a small challenge to Tira. Then, as if he had finally decided to take the battle seriously, his attacks increased in passion and vigor, and soon his attacks were taking extreme effort to block or evade, and presenting a powerful threat to Tira.

Tira had been trying to return the demon's attacks, but his relentlessness - and not to mention the searing heat that was causing her to feel dizzy - prevented her from being able to perform very many counterattacks. She was caught off guard by a leg swipe from the demon, and thrown onto her back. The demon stood above her, and raised his sword to strike a killing blow.

"Evil begets evil...Thou shalt have NO mercy!"

Tira was faint and lightheaded from the heat, but still managed to muster the strength to raise her legs and deliver a powerful kick to the demon's abdomen. He went flying through the air, off of the platform, and toward the lava below.

Tira knew the fight was over. She let her head fall back, and panted heavily.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a sword spinning through the air rapidly.

_The next enemy?_ Tira pulled herself and looked toward the sound - to see that it was the same demon from before. The demon was - Tira rubbed her eyes to make sure that they were not fooling her - _flying_ through the air. He was holding his sword horizontally above his head, and rotating his gear-like wrist rapidly, causing the sword to spin in the air. It was twirling at an incredible speed. Tira did not understand the concept of wind generating lift, but knew the sword's rotation was somehow causing the demon to 'fly'. The demon landed on the platform, and Tira prepared herself for battle.

The demon planted his sword into the ground, then hopped up and placed both his hands and feet onto the sword's hilt. In this awkward position, he perched on the hilt of his own sword - and then began to hop towards her.

Again, Tira wondered if her eyes were betraying her.

The demon assailed her, attempting to land close enough to her to cut her with the blade of his sword, or impale her by coming down on her vertically from a particularly high hop. All of Tira's efforts were centered on dodging the demon's attacks, not because they were effective, but because it was difficult for her to do much else than stare at the demon's bizarre display.

Seeing that his strategy was yielding little fruit, the demon hopped off of his sword, and then spun in a circle. The demon disappeared, and re-appeared a short distance away. It was not movement fast enough to seem instantaneous - Tira's eyes would have caught it. No, this being was actually teleporting. He continued his uncanny demonstration, teleporting around the platform, until he seemed to disappear altogether.

_...Behind me._

Tira leapt forward, away from the demon she knew was behind her. She whirled around to face it - and beheld the demon, back facing her, impaled by his own sword.

She stared blankly in confusion, and then watched as the demon charged backwards at her, and stabbed himself through the abdomen again, in an attempt to attack her that fell short.

Tira's face twisted into a snarl, and she delivered a hard kick to the demon's back, sending him sprawling onto the platform. "This is RIDICULOUS! Are you just toying with me? Is this what hell is supposed to be? Eternally fighting an absurd and stupid enemy?"

"NAMU!" The demon screeched. "If thou findest this so easy, then fightest back!"

Tira, her energy renewed by frustration, assaulted her opponent. She swung her ringblade at him ceaselessly, fighting at top capability. She sliced into the demon's flesh several times, and knocked him back considerably with every blow.

Eventually, the demon backed away from her, keeping his distance instead of drawing closer as he had been doing before. He was heavily wounded and bleeding severely. Tira realized that he was no longer in any condition to fight.

"...Thou fightest well, Girl Most Green." The demon said. "It would appearest that I must seekest mine vengeance another day..."

The demon leapt up into the air, and began to twirl his katana.

"I wilt allowest you to livest today, murderer! I cannot avengest mine comrades this time, but I wilt findest thee again, and during our next encounter, I shalt killest thee!

"Art thou the ghostest of someone whose friends I killedest?" Tira asked, mocking the demon's speech pattern.

"This is not the land of wind and ghosts! Nay, thou art in the volcanic innards of Fuji-sama! Thou hath earn'd the right to leavest. The exit is a short distance further down the lava stream. I sayest again: Thou hath killed mine companions, an unforgivable encroachment, and I wilt have thine head for it!"

The demon - or insane man - or whatever he was - flew away, leaving Tira alone in the belly of the giant mountain she had seen on the horizon so many times.

_So, this isn't hell after all? ...Hell or not, that man couldn't have been human. His arm was made of wood, but it was moving like a regular arm, and seemed...alive. And how did he survive all of those stab wounds he inflicted on himself? What a weirdo. ...But, if this isn't hell...I'm still alive. I just have to get out of this volcano._

Despite her resignation to her supposed 'death', she was very relieved to in fact be alive. After another minute or so of floating down the river of lava, she saw an enclave with a stairway plainly in sight. She leapt off of the platform to the enclave, and began to ascend the stairs.

---

"Tira!" Ivy barked angrily. "Where WERE you? Stupid girl, you held us up! What the hell were you doing? Why - "

"Tira!" The second voice caught Tira's attention far more than the first. She'd predicted Ivy's reaction down to the last word, but her Master she was unsure of - and it was her Master who now approached her speedily. Tira was surprised - but pleasantly so - when Siegfried slung his arms around her and held her close, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"...M-master?"

"You're back - I was so worried - are you unharmed?"

Tira was overwhelmed by the emotion that was coming from Siegfried. Such concern - it was a side of him she had not seen before. That much concern - for her? Did he really care about her? Really value her? ...Or was he just afraid that he had lost his reliable sex slave? "...I'm okay, Master." She held out the shard of Soul Edge. That enigmatic man had not taken it from her. "I sensed this, and so I retrieved it."

"There's blood on your clothing."

Tira had rarely felt guilty about killing. When she perceived herself to have gone to hell because of her actions, for the first time, she seriously regretted the act of killing other people. Those men...did they truly deserve to die? Was that bizarre man justified in seeking her death in retribution?

"...It's not my own. There were some men who tried to take the shard from me. I had to defend myself against them. I didn't kill them. I was careless, and they captured me. Some time later, I woke up at their hideout, and escaped. I'm sorry I was gone for so long because of my mistake."

Siegfried began stroking the side of Tira's head. Not with affection - almost like a worried mannerism. "You were captured? Did they...what did..."

Tira blinked a few times, pondering the meaning behind Siegfried's stuttered words. "I'm fine, Master. They didn't do anything to me."

Siegfried seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and held Tira closer. "I'm very glad that you're safe, Tira. I was very worried about you."

There was deep concern, as well as sincerity in his voice. Tira believed that his words and feelings were genuine - but why was he so worried? He seemed very concerned when he learned that she had fallen into the hands of other men. _Is he simply possessive of me? Or do I have a place in his heart? ...Perhaps...it's a little of both. _Tira realized that she might actually be more important to her Master than she thought. She decided to put her misgivings on hold for a while and continue to travel with him...she would give him a chance to prove himself worthy of being her Master.

Tira apologized to the others, and explained what had happened - with one or two white lies thrown in. Apparently, they were intrigued that the quiet girl had done something - and easily forgiving, as she had always helped the group whenever an opportunity presented itself, earning her the right to make a mistake every once in a while. Besides this, the shard she brought back was an item of interest, as it could be used to test Taki's purification abilities.

The shard was considerably small compared to most fragments that they had encountered, yet despite this, the process lasted at least an hour, and seemed to exert a lot of energy from Taki. However, the purification was a success. The unholy and demonic fragment of metal was purified, its polarity reversed, and it became endowed with properties of holiness and light.

Their plan was feasible - but it would take a hundred more shards to create a weapon on par with Soul Calibur.

Siegfried looked down at the glass-like piece of metal glowing faintly in the palm of his hand. "...It's a start, at least."


	41. Nadir

"The boat will be leaving for the continent in the morning." Setsuka explained to the others. "It wasn't easy to secure private transportation; there are a huge number of displaced refugees and deserters trying to flee the country right now. But Siegfried - why was it so necessary to make sure we got a personal ship? Why couldn't we have used a trade vessel?"

"The last time we traveled the ocean on a merchant ship, we were attacked." Siegfried said simply. "There's no need to risk any more innocent lives."

"I see." Setsuka nodded. "Shall we make camp outside the port?"

"Outside the port? Why not at an inn?" Cassandra asked. "I hate staying out in the wilderness."

"We had to spend the last of our funds to acquire passage across the ocean. We couldn't have afforded a boat for ourselves if we stayed at an inn tonight." Ivy pointed out. "Of course, we could have avoided this situation if any of us had even the tiniest iota of nautical capability..."

Siegfried ignored Ivy's remark. "Let's leave port and get the tents set up." No one raised any objection, though Cassandra, as usual, continued to vocalize her dissatisfaction.

Setsuka had the duty of gathering the necessary material for a fire. As she collected suitable pieces of wood, the sun was slowly setting into the horizon, and the clouds above her refracted a remarkable orange glow. Though she was normally first to acknowledge and admire beauty, she did not find anything appealing in the clouds today; the sight of the plummeting sun only gave her a sinking feeling.

She fought back a tear as she prepared to tell her friends her intent.

---

She approached them one at a time, as she had done when she asked their opinion on how to deal with her desire for revenge on Mitsurugi. Unlike before, she wasted no time asking them what they thought; she was frank and stated it quite simply. None of them took it too well, save possibly Taki, who'd only been traveling with them a short time. Ivy had claimed she was indifferent, but Setsuka detected the slightest trace of concern and hesitation; she just hadn't wanted to admit it. Ivy's expression alone brought a brief smile to Setsuka's face.

They'd all agreed to keep the information to themselves until Setsuka had a chance to tell Siegfried herself, though she was a bit concerned about Tira; she didn't seem to be very good at keeping information to herself, and would doubtlessly reveal it in a heartbeat if her master asked her, so Setsuka had made a point to save Tira for the very last.

As the fire was prepared, Setsuka cast a glance at all of the others, and remained quiet throughout their conversations. Their nighttime fire was a regular occurrence, and usually they'd enjoy each others' company to whatever extent they could. Even the intentionally distant like Ivy and Taki could open up and enjoy conversation. Siegfried usually just sat back and listened, and tonight, Setsuka - usually a regular conversationalist - was emulating him.

She knew the others would comply with her request, and they all went to their tents early. The only abnormality was Tira, but Sophitia took care of that by inviting the young woman to join herself and Cassandra for a while. Presuming Siegfried would take first watch, Taki and Ivy went to their tents without complaint and without concern.

Alone by the crackling flames, Setsuka searched for the right words. She was about to break the silence when Siegfried surprised her by speaking first.

"You're planning to leave us, aren't you?" His eyes were closed; he looked quite serene, but there was no mistaking that there was a hint of wistfulness in his tone.

"...Yes." Setsuka answered. "How'd you guess?"

"We only hired you to be our guide and translator during our tenure here, and now we're leaving the country." Siegfried said simply.

Setsuka knew Siegfried meant no harm, but her emotions made her defensive. "Are you implying I'd only do something if I was hired for it?"

Siegfried gave an audible sigh. "No, I'm sorry. I just...well, I didn't honestly expect you to want to stay with us. You got your revenge on the man you were hunting, leaving you with no further incentive to travel, and we didn't even bother to pay you."

"It's not too late for that." Setsuka pointed out. "We haven't parted ways yet, so there's still a chance for you to pay me for my services. ...And, if you remember, there are two ways you can pay me." She said, her voice adopting a slightly seductive tone.

"...Setsuka, please." Siegfried said, sighing and turning his head uncomfortably. "I explained my situation to you in detail. You know I'm trying to regain my self-control."

"And have you gotten anywhere with that?" Setsuka pressed.

Siegfried hesitated to answer. He'd resisted Setsuka's playful advances...but he'd sought Tira more and more often, becoming crueler to her in his pursuit of pleasure, he'd granted Sophitia 'comfort' every time she had requested, had allowed Ivy to use him for her pleasure, and had just a few days earlier coerced Cassandra to satisfy his desires...not only that, but these days, he chastised himself less and less for impure thoughts. His lustful actions and thoughts were slowly becoming acceptable to him - so commonplace it was hard to deny them anymore. During his time in Japan, he had made no progress, only steps backward. His self-restraint was almost non-existent now - thinking about it presently, he felt guilt, but most of the time, he did not even feel a drop of shame. How he had fallen...

"...Siegfried?"

He didn't want to tell her the truth, but he knew she'd detect a lie immediately. "...No, I haven't. I am still as much a slave to my desires as I was when we first met...if not more so."

Setsuka smirked. "Well, isn't it obvious how you have to pay me, then?"

"Setsuka!" Siegfried said, dismayed. "You know how much trouble I'm having, yet you would still tempt me? That would only make it worse..."

"That's not the issue anymore. You're flat broke, remember? You have no choice but to sleep with me." She said with a teasing wink. "You're not the only one who has had to show restraint during this journey. You've been just as tempting to me as I've been to you."

Siegfried gulped. Things were not looking good. At this rate...

Setsuka crept closer to him. "It's not so bad, is it? Even if you cannot control yourself, don't you enjoy giving yourself over to your desire?" She slid a hand upon his armorless torso. "You don't need something like 'love' to motivate desire; you just need the desire itself to drive your actions. The simplicity of it is what I find so appealing..."

Siegfried tried to remain resolutely quiet and keep his gaze locked on Setsuka's eyes as best he could, but this became exceedingly difficult when the hem of her kimono slipped down, revealing more of her immense bust to him.

"...I know I'm being selfish - I know I was supposed to help you overcome your problem - but tonight might be the last time we ever see each other, and I would regret it if I let you slip away without...making a nice memory to remember you by."

Setsuka lowered the hem of her kimono further. "Go ahead - use my body. I want you to lust for my body, I want you to use me for your pleasure." She smirked. "I told you before...I find it flattering."

Siegfried reached towards her, but Setsuka slinked backwards, smiling wryly at him, teasing. Siegfried's lust had already reached its peak, and now the sight of her rescinding form ignited frustration. He reached forth, with swiftness normally saved for battle, and found his hands grasping her slim waist, pulling her closer to him and kissing her savagely.

Setsuka was not surprised. She did not resist and relaxed her muscles, allowing Siegfried to roughly handle her, forcefully 'guiding' her body away from their camp and thrusting her down upon the soft grass outside of the sight of anyone who might still be awake.

Siegfried's mouth moved from her lips down her neck, wasting little time in approaching her chest. His hands shook terribly as he removed the ribbon binding her kimono together, and once he pulled the cloth apart, pressed his hands upon her massive bust, and his head between each breast, enjoying the warmth and feel of her flesh.

Setsuka had many passionate lovers, but few could boast such strength. Siegfried may not have had much tact or subtlety, but he was already showing her how badly he wanted her. As always, it was an empowering and gratifying experience.

Siegfried hastily pulled down his pants, moved his hand to the back of Setsuka's head, and guided her downwards. Setsuka took the hint, moved one hand to brush her locks away, and descended, opening her mouth wide.

He forced her down upon him before she had room to get comfortable, but Setsuka acclimated. It was clear to her that Siegfried didn't want to waste any time, and she responded appropriately...she might've been content for him to reach his climax this way, but Siegfried pushed her back down, away from him, and moved almost to sit upon her, thrusting himself between her breasts, moving back and forth, his gaze locked on her eyes.

Setsuka smiled and moved her hands to either breast, pushing both upon him as he continued to thrust at her. The head of his penis periodically brushed against her lips, and she met it with her tongue, licking it sensually. Not that she had reason to object, but if he continued so quickly, she might see the conclusion faster than she'd hoped.

Siegfried clenched his teeth, wanting badly to reach his release. It was pleasurable, to be certain, but Setsuka - while impressive - lacked the girth of Ivy or Sophitia. As the image of the other women's swaying breasts entered his mind, he grinned lecherously. His mind filled with fantasies instantly, and it was not long before he gave a deep groan and ejaculated upon Setsuka's face and breasts.

Panting, Siegfried slumped forward upon Setsuka, only to lift himself up again, eyes once more alight with unquenched desire.

"Siegfried?" Setsuka asked, surprised.

"More." Siegfried stated simply, as he continued to roam her body with his lips and hands. It was a brief period of time before he was physically "prepared" to continue. He moved towards the lower half of her body, which was covered in a pair of black undergarments that he tugged down without second thoughts.

Setsuka was impressed by Siegfried's stamina, and spread her legs for him. Siegfried wasted no time, and began thrusting quickly and recklessly within her.

Setsuka's quiet moans grew more sensual, and Siegfried's grunts grew ever more frequent. Setsuka wrapped her arms around Siegfried's neck, enjoying herself thoroughly. Unoriginal as Siegfried's positioning and movements may have been, his raw power and his obvious desire for her would lead her to her climax, only a few moments after Siegfried ejaculated as well, falling upon her with a low groan.

After briefly resting their exhausted bodies in one another's arms, Siegfried and Setsuka cleaned up and reclothed. Setsuka was walking to her tent when she felt Siegfried grasp her arm.

"...Don't leave." was Siegfried's simple request.

Setsuka raised an eyebrow. "My, you're _still_ not satisfied?"

Siegfried paused. "I mean - don't leave our group. Continue to travel with us."

Setsuka laughed. "Tonight was fun, but you can't really expect me to just travel with you forever just for that reason, can you? I have to keep supporting myself after you complete your journey, and it'll be even harder to come all the way back here to Japan..."

"Then don't come back to Japan." Siegfried requested. "_Stay_ with us. Stay...with me."

Setsuka raised an eyebrow. She wasn't sure what he meant, exactly, but it had sounded like -

"It's not just that I want your embrace - I...I know this will sound like a lie to convince you to stay beside me, but...You are an amazing woman, Setsuka, and I have grown fond of you. We all have. I'll keep 'paying' you this way, if you'll stay with us."

Setsuka was moved by Siegfried's words. Once again, orange light refracted through the clouds as the sun began to climb over the horizon as Setsuka was enveloped by an uplifting feeling.

It was nothing like an admission of love, but it still brought a blush to her cheeks. This man wanted her so badly...not just for the pleasure she could provide, but also to travel with him and stay with him?

Had he made the same request of the others traveling with him? Would they all stay and continue traveling together?

...Did it really matter, anyway? Before, she had no life outside her desire for vengeance. When she had defeated Mitsurugi and escaped that cycle, she found comfort in returning to her friends. She had enjoyed teasing Siegfried, and tonight, she had enjoyed pleasuring him even more. Now that he had surrendered to her and asked her to stay with him...

Setsuka smiled, and gave her reply.

That morning, Setsuka had her hands full with the job of explaining her change of heart to the others. She would not be leaving after all; after spending the night soul-searching and realizing that there was nothing left for her in Japan, she had discovered that her true place was with those who had come to be her friends. And so it came to be that Setsuka accompanied the others upon a boat crossing the sea.

Siegfried put on the façade of serenity, but was struggling within himself. _I can now say that I have completely given up on what I believed in...I've sacrificed my values entirely for sinful pleasure._

He glanced at Setsuka, and she smiled warmly at him; much more so than ever before.

_I can't escape now. I've lost the battle. I've given myself over to my desire completely. There's no use fighting it anymore._

He looked at Ivy, arguing about something with Sophitia and Cassandra. Taki was looking out over the ocean, and Tira was idly examining the wooden structures of the boat, pawing at them like a cat.

_They're all so beautiful. I may not be able to say it, but I think...I think I might just care for them all. I can still be happy, even when enslaved for all eternity._

_I'm trapped in an endless cycle that will never be broken - but that might not be so bad._


	42. Scarlet Thunder

In the land of Korea, there was a famous martial arts master by the name of Seong Han-myeong. His prowess in combat was widely known and respected throughout his country. He became the master of a _dojang_ martial arts training hall, where he instructed students in the ways of his fighting style with the Korean bladed pole weapon, the Guan Dao.

Han-myeong had one daughter and one son, but his son and wife died of sickness, leaving only his daughter, Seong Mi-na, to continue his lineage. Wishing to never experience such loss again, he became very protective of his daughter, worrying for her safety every day.

It was through his desire to protect his daughter that Han-myeong insisted in teaching Mi-na the ways of martial arts and weapon combat. From her early childhood to adolescence, Mi-na underwent almost excessive amounts of training, eventually becoming even more skilled with the Guan Dao than even her father was.

One day, an adolescent boy arrived at the dojang, wishing to learn self-defense. Han-myeong initially refused the boy's request, but then learned that the young man was an orphan who had no home or way to protect himself from the dangers of the world. Han-myeong took in the boy, and just as soon, took a particular interest to him. The young man's name was Hwang.

Hwang proved himself to be a quick learner with exceptional determination. Han-myeong was impressed, and saw much potential in Hwang. He saw this as an opportunity to have a son once again, and considered adopting him. However, before a fitting opportunity could arise, Hwang left the dojang to join the Koran military's Coastal Forces.

Han-myeong regretted not asking Hwang to stay and become his family, and decided that if Hwang ever returned, he would make his offer. Hwang returned sooner than expected, but it was only to ready himself for an important mission on behalf of the leader of the Coastal Forces, Admiral Yi Sun Shin, who was a childhood friend of Han-myeong.

Hwang's important mission as to seek out a "Sword of Salvation" known by the name of Soul Edge.

Han-myeong knew that he could not ask Hwang to be his son now, when such an important mission was at hand. Instead, Han-myeong offered to give Hwang his most prized sword, Mountain Breaker. Hwang politely declined the offer, refusing to take Han-myeong's favorite weapon away from him. Hwang instead accepted a different weapon, the Blue Storm, one of the Seong's Family heirlooms.

As Mi-na listened to Hwang speak of his life in the military, she regarded him with envy and a sense of injustice. Mi-na had previously tried to join the Coastal Forces, but was rejected on account of her gender. Mi-na decided to find this 'Soul Edge' weapon on her own before the oh-so-perfect Hwang could, so she could prove her worth.

As Mi-na was sneaking out of the house, she was caught by her father. He stopped her and asked where she was off to, and she did not lie to him. He admonished her and ordered her to stay home, but she refused to obey him, and ran off.

Around this time, news began to spread that the Japanese were planning to invade Korea. Most of Han-myeong's pupils left to join the Coastal Defense immediately. Upon hearing of the invasion, Hwang cut his search short and returned home, dragging someone home with him - Mi-na, whom he had found during his travels. Han-myeong scolded her and made her endure an even stricter training regimen than before.

Thanking Hwang for his help, Han-myeong finally gathered the courage to ask the young man to be his son. The offer was politely declined. Han-myeong did not give up, and began to plot a way to make Hwang his son - a marriage between Hwang and Mi-na.

Mi-na grew very angry with her father upon hearing his plan, and ran away soon afterward. Han-myeong was stricken with grief, having wound up with no children instead of two. Ruminating over these matters, Han-myeong started to think rationally again, and conceded that her had been overprotective of Mi-na, and should not have thought of using her as a tool. He decided to give her freedom to do as she wished with her life once she returned.

However, months passed, and Mi-na never returned. Han-myeong began to become extremely worried, even requesting the aid of Yi Sun Shin, who could not help him, being busy with the invading Japanese forces. However, he could spare one man...

---

_Freedom at last! _

_...But...what am I supposed to do now?_

Mi-na ticked off her options on her fingers, limited as they were_. I want to volunteer for the Coastal Defense Force, but they've flatly denied me every time I've asked. Dad's best friend is a member of the Force, so the instant I go there, they'll just make me go back home. Maybe I should just go back home, then...argh, but it's like a prison, and there's nothing to do but train!_

_...Oh! I've got it! Why don't I begin the quest for the Sword of Salvation again? Yeah, that seems like a good idea! If I get the sword, both father AND the Force will accept me! Hwang stopped me before, but I shouldn't have to worry about him this time!_

After a few months, Mi-na finally reached western soil, where the Sword of Salvation was said to reside. One day while in a town, Mi-na heard a rumor about a woman who was searching for the same sword as she. Mi-na tracked down the woman in the town to discuss the sword with her.

The woman was tall, with hair of platinum and eyes of cyan. At least, she seemed like the kind of haughty woman who would be enamored with such cliché and romantic terms. She carried herself with an air of obvious superiority, as if she was daring anyone to convince her otherwise. She wore provocative clothing as if to elicit all the attention and stares she could, but behaved like a distinguished aristocrat, not a whore. She was demure and bold, refined and vulgar, alluring and repulsive. Mi-na hated her already.

Mi-na swallowed her distaste for the unpleasant woman, introduced herself by announcing that she was looking for Soul Edge, the Sword of Salvation, and asked for help. The woman responded with a tone so condescending she could not have been more patronizing if she had tried, calmly yet rudely telling Mi-na that she was pitifully mistaken about the nature of the sword, and to cease searching for the 'demonic blade'.

Mi-na was not the sort of person who would go looking for trouble, but she was also not the sort of person who could ignore rude words easily. She tried arguing with the woman, saying she was more than capable of protecting herself. Spotting a possible weak point, the woman gave Mi-na a reason to stay away from Soul Edge - it was nothing for a frail little girl to get involved with. The way that Mi-na responded to this remark confirmed that she was sensitive about her youth, and the woman amused herself by goading Mi-na further on the grounds of her age. Mi-na retaliated by insulting the woman's own age, calling her an old lady because of her white hair. They continued to trade invectives.

While the woman was not phased by Mi-na's feeble attempts to taunt her, the sensitive Mi-na was growing more angry by the moment. Upon realizing that the woman had a weapon at her side, Mi-na challenged the white-haired bitch to a fight right there in the middle of the street. The woman eagerly agreed, drawing her weapon enthusiastically - it seemed that she enjoyed physical fights as much as verbal ones.

And, just as the woman had devastated Mi-na with her words, she did so again using her weapon. Although Mi-na was not overpowered, she was overwhelmed by her opponent's blade, some kind of mysterious wriggling sword. She fought her best against the woman, but she knew what the final result would be.

When it was obvious that the fight was over, the mysterious woman left without a word, the crowd that had gathered around to stare broke up, and Mi-na was left standing alone in a dimly lit street.

_I couldn't beat her. Does this mean that my blade is useless? Does this mean I have neglected my training? _Mi-na had never felt so inadequate and crushed in her life, not even during her times at her father's dojang. The art of the Guan Dao was her only confidence in this journey. She stood in shock as her mind was denied everything by this one defeat.

"Interesting duel!" Bellowed a voice.

The voice snapped Mi-na out of her funk, and she regained her focus. As she looked around, she saw an Asian man standing on the side of the street where the crowd once was. The man looked in his thirties or forties, perhaps Chinese. He seemed very, _very_ drunk. A long rod in the man's hands drew Mi-na's attention. At a slight glance, it looked like a long walking stick, but the scars and nicks in the rod made it obvious that it was a combat staff, and showed signs that it had been in use for many years.

"That lady's sword was a rare thing." The man said inbetween hiccups, his speech slurred. "Indeed, it was a good lesson for you to learn - not to challenge people so boldly."

Mi-na sighed. What was it about alcohol that made people feel so entitled to lecture people about every little thing? She prepared to leave.

"You're lucky you're so young! You have time to become stronger, right, 'little girl'?" The man asked.

The man was only trying to console her by suggesting that her youth was a trait with useful potential- but Mi-na misunderstood the man's words, taking them to be yet another insult, and after being treated like a child for the second time today, she attacked the drunk without even thinking.

However, her Guan Dao never reached him. He didn't parry it or guard himself with his staff - but instead, he simply stopped the blade by grabbing the Guan Dao by the rod.

"It is unwise to attack your enemy before knowing their abilities." The man said with a wry smile.

In a flash, the man turned his weapon upon Mi-na - wielding the rod not as a bo staff, but with the same technique one would use to wield a Guan Dao. Mi-na defended herself against the man, but he struck her with several blows that would have been fatal, if his staff had possessed a blade. When she adapted her strategy to counter an opponent wielding a Guan Dao, the man suddenly began to wield his rod as a combat staff. Again, he struck her with many 'killing' blows, but he showed no intent to harm her - he was smiling and laughing - just having fun.

When she could take it no longer, Mi-na screamed in frustration. "ENOUGH! Stop toying with me!"

"...So you'd like to get serious now?" The man said with an ambiguous grin. Mi-na was afraid - was that a threat? "As I said, you are young, and still have time to become stronger. If you wish...I will teach you how to fight."

Mi-na was shocked by this sudden proposal from a stranger she hardly knew. ...However, whatever his character, she could not deny his mastery of the Guan Dao...

And so it came to pass that Mi-na returned to a life of diligent training, this time under the guidance of a mysterious and perpetually drunken man.

Mi-na knew after her encounter with the white-haired bitch that she would continue to run across strong fighters like that woman in her quest for the Soul Edge. If she sought the blade, she would need to become stronger.

This was her sole motivation to continue to push herself. The man paid little attention to Mi-na's purpose, and instead taught her genuinely because of her strong convictions. Day by day, her skill grew. Even though the man was almost always intoxicated, and his appearance was a terrible mess, his fighting style and mastery of the staff had something very noble and traditional about it.

A full year had passed in Mi-na's training. Her drunken master taught her lessons she had never learned about the Guan Dao, and also taught her how to fight in the style of the bo staff. And then, one day, the man went out to buy some alcohol...and never returned. A saddened Mi-na found a note that the man had left behind.

_Under my guidance, your skill has grown in ways it never could have before, but your abilities have grown so much that I am no longer worthy to teach you the way of the Guan Dao. But with your talent, you need not master it fully, but simply combine what I have taught you with your knowledge of the long blade. There is nothing more for me to teach you. Go forth and complete your quest._

_- Kong_

---

"At least, that's what I remember about her. She reminded me of a girl from my past...they were both the same age, I guess. I taught her the art of the rod for no real reason, but I found myself surprised at how quickly she mastered it. She needed merely a year to master the basic techniques. She was an honest girl, so honest that she couldn't keep her thoughts to herself and always said whatever came to mind. I think you should consider becoming more frank as well...don't you agree, Chief Commander Hwang?"

Drunk as usual, Kong was speaking to none other than Hwang. A group of bandits had hassled the drunken man, and Hwang had prepared to save him, when the alcoholic suddenly defended himself with expert skill. Hwang took an interest in the curious man and began speaking to him, and before long, Hwang had mentioned that he was looking for a girl - a girl whose description matched that of Kong's former apprentice.

It was three years until Hwang finally tracked down Mi-na. Mi-na's search for Soul Edge, predictably, had been as unyielding as her previous search. When Hwang finally caught up with her, she grudgingly agreed to return home to her father.

Han-myeong was overjoyed to finally see his only loved ones return home, and profusely apologized to Mi-na for being too overprotective of her during all those years, and promised to treat her as an adult from that day forward.

---

As the warring states of Japan became unified, tensions began to mount in the neighboring country of Korea. When a country in disarray comes together as one, it often can mean only one thing: The country seeks to expand overseas.

Because Korea was adjacent to Japan, they fortified their defenses in order to be ready for a Japanese invasion at any moment. The coastguard force, under the command of Navy Admiral Lee Sun Shin, was a part of that defense. With a distinguished admiral at the helm, many promising youths joined the coastguard. The country had high expectations for its maritime defenses.

Desiring the ability to defend themselves if Japanese forces invaded their land, many young men wished to gain some degree of mastery over martial arts. Dojangs like Seong Han-myeong's were highly valued, as were renowned martial arts masters such as Han-myeong himself.

Every so often, there is a martial artist who shows almost supernatural excellence in his field of combat. Seong Han-myeong thought he would only see one such man in his lifetime - Hwang - but before his days were over, he would see yet another prodigy in his dojang.

The boy's name was Hong Yun-seong. Yun-seong entered Han-myeong's dojang, hoping to gain the skills of Hwang, who by now was a famous and renowned coastguardsman who served under Admiral Lee. After Yun-seong witnessed Hwang's abilities with his own eyes, Hwang became his hero, and Yun-seong sought to become as much like him as possible; and the first step was to train at the same dojang Hwang had trained at.

Time passed, and Yun-seong developed from a determined and brave boy into a hot-blooded, reckless young man. He became well known in the dojo, even by his seniors, though his reputation was more notorious than it was honorable. But although he was temperamental and emotional, Yun-seong's seniors knew that there was no evil in his heart - he was childish, but not cruel. Recognizing his potential, Master Seong Han-myeong took him under his wing and taught him directly.

By this time, Hwang, was no longer Yun-seong's hero - but a man who Yun-seong vowed to surpass. In order to prove his skills, the brash and overenthusiastic Yun-seong wished to fight Hwang. One day, news reached the Han-myeong dojang that Hwang was returning from his long journey. Yun-seong saw this as an opportunity. He was in top condition, in both body and mind. Yun-seong was convinced that he could make Hwang acknowledge his fighting skills. Not only that, he might also prove that he was actually stronger than Hwang.

Wiser from his long journey around the world, Hwang ignored the challenge. Disappointed that his mission to find the Sword of Salvation had failed, Hwang rejoined the military to defend his country from the impending Japanese invasion.

Yun-seong was dissatisfied that Hwang ignored his challenge. Mi-na saw the brooding Yun-seong, and tried to turn him around. "How long are you going to sulk like that?" She asked him. "You're being a child." Unexpectedly, Mi-na drew a sword - and handed it to Yun-seong. "Take a good look at your reflection in this sword, and think things through."

The weapon that Mi-na handed to Yun-seong was a Seong family heirloom. According to legend, it possessed the ability to reflect the deepest thoughts of those who held the blade.

That night, Yun-seong studied the image of himself in the sword, and thought about what he should do. An array of thoughts and feelings entered his mind.

He realized it was foolish to challenge someone for personal reasons when the country was in such peril. But what could Yun-seong do to make Hwang acknowledge him? Yun-seong mulled over his options. He then realized that if he could obtain the Sword of Salvation that Hwang had failed to find, Hwang would be forced to recognize Yun-seong's talents and respect him. A challenge against Hwang would have to wait until after the country was saved...and perhaps Yun-seong could do that using the sword of supposed salvation!

Save his motherland and prove his strength - Soul Edge would allow him to achieve two goals in one fell swoop. He was quite pleased with his plan.

Once Yun-seong made his decision, he could not stay put for long. He immediately packed his belongings, wrote a farewell letter to his master, and left the dojang. In his characteristic haste, he did not return the family heirloom that Mi-na had lent him.

During his journey, Yun-seong learned of the true abominable nature of the Sword of Salvation, and became tormented as to what to do. Nevertheless, he continued his search; Yun-seong did not care if Soul Edge was evil, as long as he could make Hwang respect his skills and defeat the Japanese invaders. The message that Japan had finally invaded Korea was what solidified his resolve.

Yun-seong did not care if Soul Edge was evil...as long as he could make Hwang respect his skills and defeat the Japanese invaders.

---

Because Seong Mi-na had been the one to hand over a prized family heirloom to a reckless man like Yun-seong, she felt the most responsible for his sudden departure, not to mention the loss of a keepsake that held strong sentimental value. Mi-na felt obliged to retrieve the weapon, and offered to track Yun-seong down. Han-myeong did not want his daughter to leave him again, but he knew in his heart that even if he protested, she would simply run away again, so he reluctantly gave her his blessing to retrieve it.

Of course, Yun-seong was not the only pupil of Han-myeong who was too headstrong for their own good. By the time Han-myeong realized his daughter's ulterior motive for embarking on a journey - to find and destroy the demon sword herself - she was already gone.

---

As Seong Mi-na traveled throughout the lands of Asia searching for Yun-seong, a man who witnessed her defeat a bandit casually remarked that she performed the Ling-Sheng Su style impressively.

Mi-na realized that the drunken man who had taught her how to fight more effectively had never told her the name of the style. This fighting art was a solid part of her now, but she didn't know where it had originated from. Having no leads with which to follow Yun-seong, and seeing no harm in a detour, Mi-na decided to visit the famous Ling-Sheng Su temple. She had no idea who she would meet once she arrived.


	43. Eclipse

_Finally!_

The trip across the sea had taken a long time, but for Tira, the trip was longest. She had to bear one last journey in the presence of that man - but if she refused had to travel with him, then she would have been stranded in Japan until the next ship out. She decided to stomach his presence one last time, just until they reached shore - and now, they had finally made landfall.

The radical boost to Tira's eagerness for freedom and sudden lack of tolerance for her former Master's self-indulgence had been a result of watching him enjoy a night with Setsuka before they left Japan. Her initial resolve to refuse mistreatment from her Master had been weakened once she detected the possibility that he had sincere feelings for her, but she could not bring herself to believe that she held a place in his heart when he continued to enjoy other women as much as he did. She was a slave, meant to be used, this she understood - but she felt no appreciation, no gratitude, and no longer saw a reason to stay in Siegfried's possession.

The concern he'd shown for her was simply a result of possessiveness; of that, she was sure. She meant nothing to him besides comfort and pleasure at night, and she was through with it. Their association with one another was over. Now that they had docked at a port, all she had to do was leave to be rid of him. But she didn't want to go without telling Siegfried her intent to abandon him.

Feeling a confidence and empowerment she had not felt since her days with the Bird of Passage, she marched toward Siegfried when he was momentarily apart from the rest of the group to announce her resolve. Her eyes fixed on him in a way they had never done before; as a target, a mark to strike. Her mouth curled into a cruel grin, and she called out his name. "Master!" She said, making sure the word dripped with as much sarcasm and mockery as possible.

Siegfried turned at the sound of Tira's voice to face the woman. Something about the way she'd called out to him sounded off. Looking at her, he could tell that something was the matter. She looked pale and frightened. Her knees were together and her hands were at her lap, and her face wore an expression of anxiety, almost panic. Something was wrong indeed. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I - um - " Siegfried heard Tira swallow, and her eyes darted back and forth nervously, as if she was lost. He put a hand on her shoulder. What event could have been so devastating? Were the others in danger? "What has happened? Tell me!"

Tira winced at the sound of his voice as if he had scolded her. She slowly hung her head down. "...I - I'm sorry. I bothered you for no real reason, M-Master. I was just - hungry. I didn't want to wait until the next meal to eat. I know it's improper for me to make demands, but I'm so hungry - could we eat as soon as possible?"

Siegfried breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, felt a mild degree of annoyance that such a minor matter had caused him to become so startled. She could be a troublesome girl sometimes - although it was just because she was so meek and selfless. Siegfried smiled and caressed Tira's hair. "That is understandable. I'll let the others know that we're stopping to eat now. Don't be so afraid to make assertions every now and then." He laughed a little, silently marveling at the young woman who still managed to surprise him even after all this time. "You're a good girl, Tira."

Siegfried returned to the others to comply with Tira's phony request, leaving the girl trembling in fear and confusion.

_What just happened? Why didn't I tell him what I wanted to? I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but when I looked him in the eyes, I...couldn't._ Tira had spent hours planning every word of her speech to make her final words to Siegfried as biting as possible. When the time finally came, she felt not a single drop of nervousness, had all the self-assurance in the world - but the moment Siegfried turned his eyes upon her, she changed from a courageous and defiant woman into a timid and scared little girl.

Tira could not explain the reason why, but she knew in her heart that she could never bring herself to speak such words to that man, no matter how much she secretly loathed him. No - she didn't loathe Siegfried. His actions filled her with fury, but even now, as she thought of him, adoration and adulation filled her heart. Despite his mistreatment of her, she still wanted to feel his eyes upon her, wanted to hear his praise, wanted to make him smile, wanted to please him in bed. She could never say such things to a man she felt so strongly for.

I was so sure I hated him. Does my anger blind me from seeing my true feelings? Or do my feelings blind me from seeing what should make me angry? I hate this. I hate this...

Tira slowly turned her head to regard the exit of the dock with her cheerless eyes, and she saw the answer.

Just leave, Tira. Just go right now. Forget your goodbye speech. Just get yourself out of this awful situation as fast as you can. You're only worse off in his possession. Leave now.

Tira gave her body the command to move, but it would not obey. She gave her legs the order to walk, but they would not. She gave her feet the instruction to push off of the ground, and in turn she nearly lost her balance. It was the same as it was before. One moment, she had all the resolve in the world to leave that man, and in the next, she simply could not bring herself to do so.

The realization struck Tira more heavily than an opponent's blow. Tears began to seep from the corners of her eyes as she slowly sunk down to her knees.

I could never leave him. No matter how much I want to, no matter hard I try, I will never be able to leave him.

Siegfried had become too integral a part of Tira's life to be severed. He was too deeply intertwined in her thoughts, her decisions, her desires for her to leave. She had based her life around him, and it would be impossible for her to pry herself away from him. She was with him, now and forever. They were one, and always would be.

"Tira! We're leaving."

The Master calls his servant.

Tira quickly wiped her tears from her face. She was simultaneously happy, angry, and heartbroken. Happy to be with the man she felt infinite adoration for. Angry to be cursed to receive mistreatment from this man. Heartbroken to be trapped, confined, ensnared in his possession for the rest of her life.

There was nothing she could do about it. Nothing but do her best to hide her true feelings, and continue to live the only way she knew how - serving the man who owned her.

"...I'm coming, Master!"

---

The group was optimistic. Their new purpose, to find shards of Soul Edge, seemed far more reasonable than to travel in the hope of stumbling across a method to destroy the invincible Soul Embrace. Now, they knew what they were looking for, and so, for the first time in months, they had a stronger sense of direction and bearing.

Their first order of business was to determine locations from which it would be likely to glean as many shards as they could. Each member of the group made several suggestions, most of which were to the west, scattered across Europe, where there the greatest number of shard discoveries had been made. Wishing not to extend the length of their trip, the group decided to take the Silk Road straight to Europe.

The clues were subtle at first, but rapidly became more apparent; as the group traveled into the Chinese mainland, Siegfried's health slowly began to decline. Although he exhibited no signs of sickness, he reported feeling ill, and his physical stamina became a fraction of its once-impressive level. He described a pain in his right arm, and as he pried off his armor to confirm his fear, his suspicion proved to be true.

The arm that had grown into a monstrosity during Siegfried's tenure as Nightmare was throbbing. The arm, and the rest of Siegfried's body, exhibited this reaction only when he was standing in a land seeped in powerful evil energy. The rest of the group had sensed an ominous shroud of evil covering the land they now tread through, but had not suspected the evil energy to be as severe as it was.

"Something terrible happened here." Siegfried said. "Something that blighted the land, covered it in this gloom."

"It might be dangerous to carry the Soul Embrace through this land." Ivy stated. "If Soul Edge absorbs enough evil energy, it could overtake Soul Calibur."

"Do we take an alternate route, then?" Sophitia asked.

"Before we consider that, there is something I would like to try." Taki said.

Cassandra drew her own conclusion fast. "No way! You're not gonna try purifying the entire land, are you?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"No. That is beyond my abilities." Taki replied. "However, I may be able to use my arts to shield us from the influence of the evil energy."

"If it's been getting worse the further we've been going in, something tells me it's only going to get stronger." Setsuka said. "Are you sure you'd be able to shield us? I'd rather be safe than sorry and just take another road if this route is giving us trouble."

"Let's try it anyway." Siegfried said, almost hurriedly. Whether or not Taki's plan could succeed in the long run, he wanted alleviation from the stress on his body, even if only temporarily.

Taki performed the incantation and cast the spell as the others watched in awe of her supernatural abilities. A bluish glow surrounded them, and within moments, they could no longer sense the evil energy.

"There." Taki said, appearing slightly fatigued. "This should prevent any evil energy from coming near us.

The others looked to Siegfried for a sign of the effectiveness of Taki's spell. His arm no longer throbbed, and he no longer seemed to be burdened with exhaustion and poor health. "It worked." Siegfried said with relief. "If my body begins to react again, we will know that we are bringing the Soul Embrace into danger. As things are now, we can continue through this land safely. Taki, will it strain you to sustain the spell?"

"...It will require concentration, but it will be nothing I cannot endure."

"Good. Thank you for your help."

With Taki's spell in effect, the group could continue to travel through this land. Siegfried looked toward Taki, silently marveling at her. She was such an outstanding woman - she was skilled in combat, intelligent, reliable, reserved, and possessed stunning beauty as well. Her figure was perfectly formed, her curves ideal and her movements so arousing...

Siegfried winced. He had failed to uphold a personal goal. Upon beholding Taki for the first time, he quickly noticed that she possessed a gorgeous face, a slender body, a large, attractive bust, and a skintight outfit. At the time, he was too distressed to become aroused. But he knew that, when the tension of the moment expired, he would lust for her, just as he lusted for the others.

At the time, he still held on to a moderate degree of self-control, and had set a personal goal for himself. He decided to make Taki an exception - the one woman omitted from his desires. Her beauty was perfectly ideal to him, and he knew that he would hunger for her above all others, if he allowed himself to view her in a sexual way. And so, he had forbidden himself from doing so; he had prohibited himself from seeing Taki in such a way, had banished any thoughts regarding her as anything other than his ally.

Remarkably, Siegfried had succeeded at this personal goal. He had been proud, very proud, of the restraint he had shown in keeping himself from thirsting for Taki. However, his accomplishment was hollow. Although he had kept himself from one woman, he had succumbed to two others - Cassandra and Setsuka. Perhaps it was because he had fought so hard to keep himself from Taki that he had no restraint left to keep himself from the others? No, that was a ridiculous and unacceptable excuse...

In the end, Siegfried had failed himself, and yet, he had finally accepted it. His trip to Japan ended with the decision to embrace the feelings he had been denying - and yet, out of habit, he had continued to ignore the possibility of pursing Taki. However, now that his resolve to improve himself had all but vanished, he wondered if there was any point to keeping Taki 'off-limits'.

He decided to give in and nibble the forbidden fruit a little. With Taki's back to him, he ran his eyes up and down the curves of her sexy figure...yet the feelings of arousal this gave him were punctuated by guilt. It was simply second nature to avoid viewing Taki in such a way - yet it was a tradition only upheld by a Siegfried that had ceased to exist.

Either way, Taki was expending considerable effort to keep him and the others safe. It would be disrespectful to her if he should gaze upon her with lecherous eyes at this moment. ...But, would it not also be disrespectful for him to do so at other times, as well? Frustration appeared on Siegfried's face. He had resolved to accept his desires, but guilt pierced him now yet again. He began to second-guess himself and his decision to give in.

It would seem that there are two Siegfrieds. One is a gentleman who strives to be proper, one is an animal that cannot be controlled. Am I fated to be a hypocrite? Am I fated to possess two sides that contradict one another?

Siegfried wished he could discuss his quandary with someone, but he knew of no one in his group who would be able to relate to his unique situation.

If he could not control himself no matter how hard he tried, there was little point in trying to make decisions about what kind of man he wanted to become. Whatever would happen would happen, whether or not he wanted it to; he was no longer in control of his future...but he would never be able to make himself accept this, or enjoy it.

Siegfried silently waited for the next time he would disappoint himself.

---

Ruin. Devastation. Nothingness.

There were no terms that better suited the Ling-Sheng Su Temple.

The temple, located deep in the mountainous regions of the Chinese mainland, was widely considered to be the greatest martial arts school in China. The group's path through the mountains gave them a good view of the temple, and they felt that such a famous location warranted a quick detour. They could ask the temple's inhabitants for advice on navigating the region, and perhaps even receive shelter for the night.

No one expected that, once they drew closer, they would discover that the Ling-Sheng Su Temple was completely destroyed.

The temple had been extremely prestigious. Rarely would anyone have met the standards required to train there, so visitors were rare and far apart. Because of the small number of visitors the temple had received over the past few years, it was not common knowledge that the temple had been destroyed on the eve of the Evil Seed. Kilik had simply not mentioned it when the others had met him.

The sun had set, and a full moon had risen. The sky was an eerie color, almost brown, a white foggy mist covered the surrounding area, and the bluish clouds overhead did little to improve the creepy atmosphere. The temple was in utter ruin; stone walls and railing were missing chunks, the footpaths were shattered and upturned, banners and flags baring the temple's insignia were tattered and torn, and there was not a surface in sight that was not marred by the nicks and scrapes of weapons. Charms similar to o-fuda talismans could be seen hanging on ropes around the area, but the devastation was testament to how poorly those good luck charms had performed.

Perhaps the most bizarre elements of the ruined temple were the faint, tiny green flames that wafted through the area aimlessly.

"Onibi." Taki said.

"O-what?" Cassandra asked.

"I believe the western term for them is 'will-o-the-wisp'." Taki clarified. "We Japanese think of them as the souls of people who died with unfinished business."

"Ghosts?" Cassandra squeaked meekly.

"Are they hostile?" Ivy asked.

"No. They are not harmful."

"These must be the spirits of the monks who died at this temple." Sophitia said sympathetically.

"What exactly happened here, anyway?" Setsuka asked.

"The energy in this area is familiar to me." Siegfried said. "I have only felt it once before. When I touched the hilt of Soul Edge...and it's power was too much for me to handle...the excess power exited my body."

"The Evil Seed..." Tira whispered reverently.

"This area…it was hit hard by the Evil Seed. The monks must have become possessed. They must have..."

Siegfried's voice trailed off as the others filled in the blank using their imagination. Turning to look at Siegfried, they saw him stricken with grief and misery. He could not help but visualize, in detail, what had transpired on the very ground they now stood on, on that day seven years ago. Siegfried considered himself wholly responsible for the catastrophe that had destroyed this temple and every life within, and the familiar sensation of guilt began to wash over him.

"...Taki, is there anything you can do for these spirits?" A sudden query from Sophitia saved Siegfried from despair. "Can you send them to the afterlife?"

Taki paused, then shook her head. "No, I could not do so. The evil energy in this area would counteract my purification spells. Besides this, I would have to lower the shield currently protecting us. It might be too much for Siegfried to - "

"...WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

This sudden explosion of words surprised everyone, and their heads whipped to the side to face the source. Standing amongst the wreckage of a temple was a young Korean man who appeared to be in his early twenties, wearing long brown hair back in a ponytail. A long weapon was strapped to the man's back - a Guan Do. His clothing was predominantly red with green outlines that covered every inch of his body except for his hands and some of his face. His clothing was adorned with elaborate designs; the sort of emblems that would decorate the uniform of a martial arts training school, but not the emblems of the Ling Sheng Su temple. The man appeared to have come from far away, and his presence here, as well as his outburst, was puzzling.

Siegfried decided to respond politely, so as to not draw the man's ire. "We are travelers who were passing by and decided to visit this temple. We were unaware that it was in ruin. We mean no harm or disrespect to this - "

"That's not what I meant! Of all the people to way find out here in a place like this, it had to be YOU?"

The man's voice was decidedly feminine, but this may have been due to his unexplained hysterical frustration. He was glaring at Ivy with confusion and disbelief.

"...Have we met before, or something?" Ivy asked in a disinterested tone.

"UGH! That way of talking! You haven't changed a bit!" The man growled, stomping a foot on the ground.

Ivy smirked. "I suppose he's a child I disciplined at some point in time."

"There you go again, calling me a child! Are you bitter toward the youthful because you're an old lady with white hair?"

Ivy's smirk disappeared, and then she appeared to be thinking hard. It was unlike her to be offended by the words of others'; it seemed that the man's words had triggered an old memory.

Siegfried's palm met his face. "This has the potential to escalate into an undesirable situation. I suggest that we leave immediately - "

"Oh, no! You're not going anywhere!"

The man leapt down from the wreckage of the temple, landing nearby. He drew his weapon, and pointed it at Ivy. The others began to prepare their weapons, but Ivy raised a hand in objection. "Don't bother. He's only after me."

"It's been over seven years, but I never forgot you. I have to thank you for one thing; after you defeated me, I strived to improve myself - and I definitely have. But that's the only thanks I owe to you! You were an awful human being back then, and it doesn't look like you've changed much at all. Ever since that day, I'd hoped I would meet you again, so I avenge my defeat, and punish you for being such a bitch!"

"Stop right now." Siegfried began. "No one here is going to get into a fight for anything as petty as - "

"Hush, Siegfried." Ivy said. "I doubt this man will take no for an answer, and it will only take a couple of minutes at the most for me to defeat him again."

Ivy drew her snake sword, and began to approach the man.

"Ivy." Taki began. "You'll be fighting outside of the shield. You won't be protected from the evil energy. This is the epicenter of that energy - you will likely feel its effects, even if you are not sensitive to it."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. That man is enduring it, and so will I." Ivy took a step out of Taki's protective sphere of energy, and then seemed to hunch over. The evil energy in this area was so potent that it was almost physical obstacle. Ivy felt as if she had weights on her arms and legs, but adjusted to the energy quickly.

"I've changed a lot since you last met me. I've got a new fighting style." The man said confidently.

"You changed in another way, as well." Ivy said. "I remember you now. But the last time we fought, you were a - "

"Shut up." The man said tersely, as if Ivy had almost disclosed compromising information. "We've spoken much, but done nothing. Let our weapons speak for us from now on."

Ivy grinned, twirled, and flicked her wrist, extending her snake sword into its whip-like form.

"Alright then. Let's dance."

The man needed no further encouragement, and dropped into a combat stance immediately. Ivy had fought this opponent too long ago to remember their style, but it didn't matter, as she didn't think this would be a challenging fight anyway. However, the man's current stance was something she had seen recently, within the past few months. Who else had they encountered who fought like this...

There was no time to ponder the matter, as the man had begun his assault. He started by swinging his weapon in a simple horizontal slash while spinning his body in a circle. Ivy countered the attack by flinging her snake sword out and coiling it around the shaft of the man's rod-like weapon. The man grinned, as if Ivy had played right into his hands.

He placed his palm against the back end of the Guan Do, and using his other hand's grip on the rod as a pivot point, he rotated and spun the rod rapidly, uncoiling the snake sword's grip on his weapon. Ivy had never seen an opponent escape the grasp of her sword so quickly. Apparently, the man had remembered her style well, and developed a few tricks with her fighting style in mind. Ivy grinned, but didn't raise her opinion of the fighter just yet.

The man went on the assault again, delivering more slashing attacks while spinning, this time adding short hops in unpredictable directions to his movement. Ivy was forced to go on the defensive, and dodged or parried the man's attacks as best she could. She saw an obvious flaw in her opponent's style of attack - such a long and thin weapon would be an inefficient shield. As the man spun his weapon behind his back, Ivy swung her sword, aiming for her enemy's head. However, the man, still holding his weapon behind his back, pointed it forward at Ivy, and brought the blade of the weapon close to his own face, blocking Ivy's weapon from striking him. Yet another unpredictable move - fighting from behind the back.

The man continued to trade blows with Ivy, once again primarily using the same style of attack. Just as Ivy was about to assume that the man had no more tricks left in his bag, he suddenly began to use kicks in his repertoire of moves, one of which caught Ivy by surprise and struck her across the face. She was angered, but at the same time, she was pleased - so this fight wouldn't be a bore, after all. She decided to take it seriously as well.

The fight continued, and the man demonstrated a wide variety of surprise techniques and unique stances. Ivy did not expect to be attacked with the backside of the bladed rod, nor to fight an opponent standing on one foot and assaulting her with stabs and kicks at the same time.

As Ivy increased the fervor with which she fought, so did the man. He seemed entirely determined to emerge as the victor of this match, fighting Ivy with a genuine desire to see her harmed and disgraced. Ivy was starting to become intimidated by this man, but on the whole, she could definitely hold her own against him - or so she thought.

Ivy conceded that the man was far more skilled than she initially believed, but her abundance of confidence prevented her from realizing that she was losing the fight. As the number of injuries across her body grew, and her stamina became almost nonexistent, Ivy realized all at once that she stood a low chance of defeating this man.

The man saw that the end of the fight was drawing near, and grinned. He prepared to deliver the final blow. He began to twirl his weapon very rapidly, moving it back and forth between either side of his body with almost supernatural speed. Then, he began to approach Ivy. The vortex he had created around himself was nearly impenetrable - Ivy knew because she had utilized this technique herself, and was aware of its effectiveness.

In her fury at being humbled by such a brash firebrand, Ivy decided to strike the 'man' where she knew it would hurt 'him' the most.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know. You don't even try to make your voice deeper. The way you move your hips gives it away."

The man faltered, but kept spinning his weapon and continued to approach Ivy.

"Why are you hiding what you are? Are you ashamed? How pathetic. I would never mask what I am. I am a woman, and I make it clear for everyone to see and admire. Young or old, male or female, winner or loser of this fight, I am above you, for I am not embarrassed to be a woman."

"I have my reasons!" The man hissed, and charged recklessly at Ivy.

Too emotional. Fool.

Ivy ran forward to attack. As the man attempted to block a whip swing, she transformed her blade from a whip into a sword, and swung upwards, slicing the tip of the blade across the man's chest.

The fabric of the man's top split open from the hem to the collar, and the clothing hung loosely from his shoulders, exposing two breasts. A cloth wrapping that had been used to constrain the breasts slipped down.

"That looks like it was wrapped on very tight. Didn't that hurt? How could you breathe?" Ivy asked with mock concern.

The woman's face flushed bright red instantly, and she covered her chest with one arm as she scampered backwards hastily. The revelation had not been a surprise to some members of Siegfried's group, while others, especially Siegfried himself, had been completely fooled by the woman's guise, and were shocked by the truth. They watched silently as the two women began to trade words.

"So, why do you hate being a female?" Ivy taunted.

"Where did that even come from?" The woman groaned. "Don't assume your first guess is the truth! It's not that I hate being a woman, okay? ...It...It's the way I'm treated, the things I'm denied. I..."

"So, you hide what you are and pretend to be something you're not?"

"I just get more respect this way!"

"How dare you. Are you saying that men deserve more respect than women?"

"That's not what I think, that's just how other people act! Argh, you're so INFURIATING!"

"So are you." Ivy said with genuine distaste in her voice.

"So then what do suggest I do when others discriminate against me because I'm a woman?"

"Prove yourself to be as competent as a man."

"That's what I'm TRYING to do!" The woman wailed in irritation. "I'm searching for Soul Edge so I can prove myself!"

Ivy scoffed. "Seven years later, you still haven't learned that the sword is evil?"

"I know it's evil, I'm after it to destroy it!"

Ivy tossed her head to the side nonchalantly, facing the others. "My business with her is over. She's in your hands now."

"...Thank you, Ivy." Siegfried said sarcastically. He sighed, prepared himself, then turned to the woman. She was trying in vain to tie the front her clothing in a knot to cover herself. In the end, she ripped off her top, and bound the red strip of fabric around her chest.

"What is your name?" Siegfried began.

"...Seong Mi-na."

"Mi-na, we possess Soul Edge."

For a few moments, Mi-na's face transitioned back and forth from confusion to disbelief to shock. Finally, she sputtered, "What?"

"I speak the truth. Currently, Soul Edge is constrained by a sword of equal power but opposite polarity, in an inert state of being that makes it indestructible. The only chance we have to destroy this Embrace of two swords is to create a third sword, one of holiness and purification, and use that to break the bond between the two swords and destroy Soul Edge."

Mi-na clearly seemed disappointed. It was obvious that she had wished to find the sword herself, and regretted that it had fallen into the hands of others. "...Oh..."

An awkward silence fell over the scene. "...Siegfried. Shall we leave?" Taki asked.

"Wait!" Mi-na said. "I've been looking for Soul Edge for months...I can't just say 'Oh, it's in someone else's hands now' and give up!"

"You're still not worthy to be concerned with a matter such as Soul Edge." Ivy said.

"Shut up! I was going to beat you! You had to resort to trickery to defeat me! If we went another round, I'd - "

"I'm not talking about how strong you are. You're too emotional. Whatever your age, you're not an adult; you're still a child. You get too excited, and get too offended. Beyond this, you can't even accept your identity as a woman."

Mi-na opened her mouth to retort, but she could not. Ivy's voice had not been condescending, her eyes did not look down on her. Ivy was not mocking her, but was giving her honest advice. Mi-na looked away. These were things she had heard others say about her - and things that she sometimes thought about herself. She had to admit..."...You're right."

"There are many ways in which you need to improve and grow before you should think yourself able to undertake such momentous goals." Ivy concluded. "Return home, and strive for personal self-betterment."

"But my home only re-enforces the things I hate about myself..."

"Then develop away from home."

"If I haven't changed after so much time traveling, traveling isn't helping me either!"

Ivy crossed her arms, and lowered her head. She seemed to have something on her mind, but refused to say it.

"...I want to change." Mi-na said. "I want to grow and improve and develop. I want to better myself. I want to become a woman I can be proud of, that others will be proud of. But I...I don't know how." Siegfried listened closely to Mi-na's words. Currently, she was reminding him of himself. He felt sympathy for the girl.

Mi-na paused, and then gradually began to look as if she had something foul in her mouth, but swallowed it anyway. She looked toward Ivy. "...You're...a lot more grown up than I am. I won't learn anything at home or on my own. I think I need to learn from...someone like you."

Ivy closed her eyes, smirked, and stroked her chin.

"I still want to defeat you, though! I want another match one day, in a better location, with no evil energy and no disguises, so we can both perform our best. But I don't just want to prove myself to be a better fighter - one day, I want to surpass you as a woman, too."

Ivy's smile grew. She seemed flattered and intrigued at the same time.

"...I've never been interested in the idea of having a protégé - but part of me thinks it would be quite fun to take you under my wing." Ivy said, being honest, before shifting her tone to a more playful one. "Oh, but alas! It is not meant to be. For such an undertaking would surely take so long, and my journey leaves me without the spare time for such a thing..." She rolled her eyes toward Siegfried and the others. "I don't believe such a decision is mine to make, when it would effect the others."

"Aw! But wouldn't you please let me come with you?" Mi-na pleaded. "Like I said, I can't just give up after all this time looking for the sword, and we both have the same goal! I wouldn't be a burden! I'll feed myself and pull my weight! Please?"

Everyone looked toward Siegfried for his judgment. Mi-na and Siegfried shared the same goal - personal improvement. If Siegfried currently could not achieve any self-betterment, he wanted to watch someone else do so, and learn from them. And, as far as he was concerned, Mi-na had defeated Ivy in combat - this made her stronger than most of the members of his group. He was also forced to note that Mi-na was a strikingly attractive girl, now that her guise had fallen and more skin was showing.

"Mi-na, whatever her faults may be, has proven herself to be a truly remarkable combatant." Siegfried began. "If she were to do away with her weaknesses, then she would be a very capable and competent ally. I consider our cause to be more likely to succeed with every powerful warrior we have on our side. I do not object to Mi-na joining us."

The others were a bit surprised to see Siegfried welcome such a hotheaded and emotional girl, but most were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Sophitia and Setsuka sympathized for the girl, and wished to join Ivy in mentoring her. Cassandra saw parts of herself in Mi-na, and was glad to finally have a companion similar to herself. Taki, without providing a reason, agreed to accept Mi-na as a member of their group. A thoughtful look in her eyes insinuated that she had a private reason for wanting Mi-na to accompany them.

Tira, who had been silent and absentminded ever since they had arrived on the continent, had no objection either.

Mi-na was overjoyed to have been accepted, and made this quite apparent. The first lesson she learned was to exhibit less enthusiasm in order to be taken more seriously.

With their business at the ruined temple finished, the group began to continue down their path across the Silk Road. The women of the group made themselves acquainted with Mi-na, while Siegfried shied away. He stayed near Taki so as to remain unaffected by the evil energy.

"She said that she does not hate being a woman, but I can tell that she wishes she was born a man. I think she hates being a woman because she sees it as weak - inferior."

The voice that had quietly delivered this proclamation belonged to Taki. She was the last person Siegfried would have expected to say such a thing - Taki was not known for abruptly volunteering her opinion about others' personalities, and her estimation of Mi-na's outlook seemed to be unwarranted. He turned to face her. Taki's eyes were once again fixed on Mi-na in a thoughtful way.

"The only real power a lot of women have lies between their legs." Taki continued bluntly. "It's not a steadfast rule, but it's true more often than most people would like to admit." To say the least, Siegfried was surprised to hear Taki speaking so frankly. Although she was serious in speech and manner, he had never known her to make social commentary or give her opinions on such matters. He wondered what had provoked these words, and why she was saying them to him.

Siegfried sensed a second layer of meaning beneath Taki's words - as if they were aimed at specific individuals...such as the other women of their group. Was this Taki's subtle way of letting Siegfried know that she thought those women were sluts because they had slept with him?

"I don't think she wants to be regarded as a woman, because she knows that, in the eyes of men, it would make her an object of sexual desire before anything else." Siegfried felt embarrassed, as if he should be ashamed for being a man. Taki's words were difficult to listen to. Then, she turned to face him. "Tell me, when you first saw her, what was she to you?"

It was a sudden question, and a somewhat ambiguous one. Siegfried tried to spit out an answer. "...A mysterious troublemaker who demanded a battle with Ivy, and seemed skilled at fighting."

Taki nodded, as if Siegfried had confirmed something for her. "And what is she to you now?"

"...A woman who fought Ivy. A woman who strives to improve herself."

Taki nodded, as if Siegfried has confirmed something for her. "In the beginning, Mi-na was a mystery. A fighter. Not a mysterious **man**, or a **man** skilled at fighting. You didn't bother making the gender distinction at all, did you? The standard is to be male, after all. However, after her gender was revealed, you made that distinction. A woman is a different matter to men entirely."

A pang of shame hit Siegfried as he realized that he had proved Taki's words to be true. He had hoped to gain her respect by not conforming to her statements about men, and he had failed. Even worse, he knew that for his inability to control himself, he deserved neither Taki's respect nor to be thought of as a gentleman.

"That a woman could even think of being a combatant is remarkable, never mind any other accomplishments." Taki continued. "At best, she would be a good fighter with a 'hot body' and 'nice set of tits', though I expect most would not even bother with the 'good fighter' part."

While slightly taken aback by her use of vulgar terms, Siegfried was more surprised to hear such remarks from a powerful female warrior who was now traveling with six other powerful female warriors - but he had to admit that she spoke the truth. Nine out of ten times he had ever done battle, the combatant had been a male. Females were not encouraged to become warriors - in fact, they were discouraged from it, and men were often naturally better fighters. Although he had seen women perform the role of the warrior well, he was far more used to seeing women performing the role of the housewife or the maid. He did not feel a woman's 'place' was in the kitchen, but seeing a woman in a man's role was, sometimes, admittedly unnatural.

Taki's second remark rang true, as well. Before he had discovered his sexuality, he had not regarded even the most attractive of women in such a way, but after Tira had made him into a man, he observed the female form in a far different manner, whether consciously or subconsciously. He'd had thoughts such as 'hot body' and 'nice set of tits' about his own traveling companions, and felt a wave of guilt upon hearing Taki speak aloud thoughts that he'd secretly had about her. Siegfried began to wonder if Taki meant to let him know that she was aware of his desires, and that she disapproved of them.

"As the women here have demonstrated through their own actions, females are not inherently inferior to men. Gender is a pointless distinction - yet people seem quite fond of making it as often as possible."

Now Taki's statements did not seem to be directed at Siegfried at all. She seemed to be speaking to herself now, as if she was trying to convince herself that her own words were true.

"She said that she does not hate being a woman, but I can tell that she wishes she was born a man. I think she hates being a woman because she sees it as weak - inferior."

Was Taki so fascinated by Mi-na because she believed they had something in common? If so, were these Taki's feelings? Did Taki see herself as weak and inferior for being a woman, and wish that she had been born a man?

Siegfried got the impression that Taki's beliefs were born from personal experience, from the discrimination she had faced for being a female. She was, after all, an attractive woman. A _very_ attractive woman...

_Not again._ Siegfried wanted to slap himself for allowing his mind to drift in such a direction once more, but he could not help himself. It was a natural desire, a part of being a living organism. And yet this natural desire had caused the rise of sexism and the oppression of women. He did not wish to dwell on such awkward thoughts, as they made him feel guilty for being a man.

"...I'm sorry." Siegfried said suddenly. He did not know why he had spoken those words. He knew that he had no place apologizing for the actions of other men, and knew that a simple apology would solve nothing. But he had become so filled with guilt that he would not have been able to go any longer without expressing regret in some form.

Taki studied Siegfried for a moment, nodded her head as if to accept his feelings, and then said no more.


	44. Jasper Scales

The monster could sense it. And it was approaching.

Normally a patient, enduring beast, the creature began to grow anxious. After waiting here for so long, a clue finally began to draw near. No use wandering around aimlessly, without an idea where to begin searching - the brute decided it was better to wait in one highly trafficked spot, and let the clues come to him.

However, since he'd begun his tenure in the ruins of his temple, nothing had come his way but weak souls. He couldn't smell or sense Soul Edge on them at all. But, patient and determined, he remained in his new abode, waiting for the day...

...Waiting for today.

The monster's claws found the handles of its axe and shield, and it sunk down into its hiding place to wait just a little longer, for the opportune moment.

---

Sophitia was not the only one who had received an oracle from Hephaestus. She was not the only one who the god had instructed to destroy the evil blade.

Hephaestus had appointed a total of twenty-four mortals the task of wiping out Soul Edge - one for every number of the Greek alphabet. Each of their origins was a unique one, from the daughter of a baker to a royal knight captain, yet each of their spirits were the same. Each was pious with all their soul, devout enough to hear the voices of the gods themselves.

Among the chosen few was a man named Aeon Calcos. Born in Sparta under the occupation of the Ottoman Empire, he was a powerful knight, gifted with incredible skill in the art of swordplay. Once he received the holy oracle from Hephaestus, he wandered the earth in search of the evil blade.

His journey eventually took him to a vast desert. The wasteland brought severe fatigue upon him, and as the harsh sands parched his mouth, his sight began to fade. He tilted his head toward the heavens.

"Ares, my lord...why do you abandon me?"

When he next recovered his consciousness, he found himself lying on a bed in a dim room. He then learned that a man of an oasis village found him buried in the sands and saved him from death. Since the village was frequently ravaged by robbers, he chose to repay their kindness by teaching them the art of swordplay. However, after only a week had passed, the catastrophe of the Evil Seed took place. The Evil Seed covered the oasis in a sphere of light, and showered pure evil onto the village.

Months later, a caravan crossing the desert carried a rumor of an oasis village drenched in blood, and a berserker there who rained terror upon any who came near. In fact, since the mysterious night of ominous lights, many a caravan had been lost in the desert. The rumor spread throughout the desert, and eventually reached the ears of Grand Priest Kunpaetku, the leader of a cult whose shrine was deeply hidden within the sands of that desert.

The Grand Priest quickly developed plans for the berserker. The Evil Seed had instilled madness and inhuman bloodlust inside of Aeon, but after several failed attempts, he was eventually captured by the cult, and brought before the Grand Priest. The Grand Priest saw that, even while bound to a huge boulder with several thick chains, the berserker violently resisted. "Splendid...I could not have asked for better material to work with. This man will be a royal guardian to me, once the synthetic experiment is a success."

Once the ritual was completed, Aeon was born anew. His limbs were given newfound power, his body was covered with scales, a reptile's tail hung behind him, and the head of a lizard rested on his shoulders. The Evil Seed swept away his memories, leaving him with nothing but bloodlust and madness, but his body remembered how to fight. The Grand Priest was pleased with the results, and decided to 'educate' him thoroughly. And thus, Aeon the sacred fighter, pious servant of Ares, became Aeon the Lizard Man, a loyal slave of the Grand Priest.

When the time came, the Grand Priest ordered his two most powerful servants, Astaroth and Lizardman, to search for the demon sword. When the two inhuman beings finally found Soul Edge in the hands of Nightmare, it had lost half of itself. Deciding that it would be unacceptable to return with the sword in this condition, Astaroth and Lizardman agreed to help the Azure Knight build its power by collecting souls through slaughtering countless victims.

When Astaroth and Lizardman were finally ready to betray Nightmare and take the Soul Edge from him, Nightmare was assaulted by Kilik and Xianghua, the latter of which using Soul Calibur to pierce the physical embodiment of Soul Edge's will, Inferno.

When the spirit sword struck down Inferno, the waves of energy unleashed by the spirit sword shook Aeon's consciousness from its long slumber, dispelling his thirst for death and returning his sanity.

The first thing he saw upon awakening was his own figure, transformed into that of a monster. Fragmented images that might have been either real or imaginary rose up from his memory. In these nightmarish visions, he served a grand priest who hid in a dark temple, and he had taken countless innocent lives.

He rejected these memories and the form he now took. "I am not a monster! I am a human being!" He screamed, but instead of words, only inhuman snarls escaped his grotesque mouth. His memory was in chaos. He was a living nightmare from which he could not wake. Terrifying thoughts assaulted him. Was his memory of being human actually a dream? The sword and shield in his hands saved him from this horrible thought. The sight of the weapons bestowed to him by Hephaestus was definite proof that he had once been human.

"I am Aeon Calcos - I was entrusted with a duty by Hephaestus. I am a disciple of Ares."

And yet, as he made these declarations, he could not tell that a seedling of doubt had taken root deep in his heart.

Seeking a way to restore his cursed body to its original form, he set out on a journey, keeping hidden his monstrous, scale-covered form. He returned to his homeland only once. When he reached it, he realized that he was no longer the person for whom his family had waited for. Just what did he plan to say to them with his misshapen mouth, when he appeared before them with his terrible body? He fell into despair.

"The fate that the gods have cursed me with is too cruel!" He spat, though only snarls came from his mouth.

He continued his journey for a long time, but he could not find a way to return himself to his original form. It might be that the answer could only be found in a certain place...this whole time, there was a single location he had chosen to avoid. It was the evil temple where this nightmare had begun.

He feared going back to that place - if he returned, he might have his will stolen and be reduced a puppet once more. But even this fear was overpowered by the terrifying thought of spending the rest of his life in this form. If he went to that place, at least he might learn something.

As he approached the temple with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity, what awaited him was neither the light of freedom, nor the darkness of enslavement. The temple he returned to had been all but destroyed. Not a single soul was to be found among the corpses of the massacred cultists, and none of the cult's materials were in any shape to be studied or used.

With his last glimmer of hope extinguished, something tiny, yet important, crumbled within him. The seedling of doubt in his heart had grown, and he could no longer ignore it.

Why had Ares not aided him in this time of crisis? Why had Hephaestus remained silent?

He realized the truth - to the gods, he was no longer a disciple or a servant. The gods were the same as his family - with no need for an abomination such as himself. Cursed, steeped in darkness, he was nothing more than a monster.

"The gods have forsaken me!" The despair in his heart transformed now into anger...anger at the gods who had abandoned him.

The sword and shield that had served to reassure him of his humanity now represented nothing more than the gods' despicable betrayal. He looked down at his tools of combat, and shook his head in disapproval...

...For he would need more than that to take revenge upon the gods.

In his memory existed something that would serve his purpose easily...the ultimate weapon, possessing enough power to frighten the gods themselves...Soul Edge.

He would use the very weapon he had been sent to retrieve in order to strike down the gods who had forsaken him. It would be the ultimate revenge.

Awash in immeasurable anger, a brutal impulse welled up from the depths of his body. The idea of being a cold-blooded beast no longer frightened him.

---

To say the last, the region separating China from Europe and Western Asia is not the most hospitable place in the world. It can easily be considered one of the most hostile environments on the planet.

There is very little vegetation, and almost no rainfall; sandstorms are very common, and have claimed the lives of countless travelers. The locals have a very great respect for this 'Land of Death', and few who have crossed it have anything good to say about it. It covers a vast area, through which few roads pass; caravans throughout history have skirted its edges, from one isolated oasis to the next. The climate is harsh; temperatures soar in the sun, but drop very rapidly at dusk. The sand storms of the region are particularly dangerous due to the strength of the winds and the nature of the surface.

The Silk Road was developed to provide a safe path through this deadly environment. Several temples were built along the way for travelers to find solace from the harsh climate. However, bandits chose to seize these temples and use them to ambush passerby, transforming the temples from safe havens into deathtraps.

Siegfried and his companions had traveled for a long time without finding suitable shelter, and the ruins of a temple by the side of the road seemed appealing to them. They were well aware of the dangers of taking solace in one of these resting points, but no longer feared bandits. Their numbers and collective strength made them a rare target for outlaws, and those who did target them would only come to regret it.

The first ones to sense it were the ones who were the most attuned to sensing energy. Siegfried, who was one with evil energy for several years, could detect it as easily as he could see, smell, or hear. Taki, through a lifetime of dealing with malicious forces, was no different. When these two stopped walking and focused on the temple with apprehension spelled out by their every movement, the others knew that something was wrong.

"...Master?" Tira asked. "What's wrong?"

"There is something inside of that temple." Siegfried said. "I cannot tell if it is evil, but I can tell that it lusts for violence."

"It does not feel human...but it is no demon." Taki expounded curiously.

The others stopped, and tried to sense what their companions were detecting.

"...It's familiar." Ivy said. "I feel as if I should know who or what it is."

"If it's dangerous, should we avoid it?" Cassandra asked.

"That wouldn't be fun at all! I don't think we need to be afraid. What could possibly pose a threat to us?" Mi-na countered, apparently brimming with confidence.

"No use taking unnecessary risks." Setsuka stated. "...But then again, if it's deadly, it feels wrong to leave it here, where it may claim the lives of innocent passerby."

"...I have to go in. I'm obligated to."

The others were shocked to hear such a sentiment, especially from the speaker in question.

"...Why, sis?" Cassandra asked.

"...I sense rage...rage at the gods. My gods." Sophitia explained. "Whoever is in that temple - he is angry at Greek deities. I have a duty to investigate this matter."

The others could think of little to say. Several of them had seen Hephaestus with their own eyes, and retained no doubt of the existence of Greek divinity. While they could not determine the best course of action, if it involved the gods, they could think of no one better to handle the situation than Sophitia.

"You don't plan to go in alone, I hope." Mi-na said. "You'd be stealing all the fun."

"I know I've felt that energy somewhere before. I'm coming with you." Ivy said.

Sophitia nodded. "It would be for the best if you all accompanied me for protection. But please, try not to interfere if you can help it."

The others nodded in understanding, and as Sophitia began to proceed toward the temple, they followed.

The closer they grew to the temple, the more they could detect the energy that Siegfried and Taki had spoken of. It was not evil, but they could feel a thirst for blood and battle, as well as a furious rage, as deep as it was dark.

As they approached the steps leading up to the temple's entrance, it stepped out from the shadows, and stood in the arched opening at the front of the ruins.

The monster had a roughly humanoid body, but it was just as much reptile as it was man. Its body was covered in a hide of green scales, and what seemed to be yellow feathers grew in patches on a few areas. For a weapon, the beast held an axe, although the rest of its body seemed just as deadly, with clawed hands and sharp talons for feet; even the snout of the beast was adorned with a sharp horn. The creature wore no clothing, but armor was strapped to its chest, knees, elbows, and shoulders, and for further protection, it held a shield.

Siegfried and Ivy recognized the monster immediately. While Siegfried had not been conscious during the time he had traveled with this creature as Nightmare, he could recall the memories of voyaging with his beast. Ivy could not forget it, as she had loathed the beast severely during her time as a member of Nightmare's "Schwarzwind". This monster represented so many tragedies, and the sight of it sent their minds spiraling into the past.

A life devoted to massacre after massacre. Brave warriors simply seeking the truth, killed for their souls. Nightmare, Astaroth, and the Lizard Man...grotesque monsters, all. And Ivy, as well; she was no better than they were, for carrying out the same butchery to repay her debt to Nightmare. They were all vile beasts that carried out countless slaughters like cold executioners. The bloodthirsty giant enjoyed it, and the eyes of the reptilian man bore no emotion despite its heartless acts. It was easily the lowest point of their lives, and Siegfried and Ivy felt feelings of shame and regret well up at the sight of this reminder.

Those of Siegfried's cohorts who had listened to him recount his years as Nightmare recognized Lizardman as well, for the beast appeared exactly as Siegfried had described him. However, only Sophitia knew of the creature's connection to her gods, being the only one pious enough to sense such a link.

She ascended a few steps until she was between her companions and the beast.

"...I can sense that you are angry toward Hephaestus." Sophitia began. "I want to know why this is."

The creature stared at Sophitia in silence with unreadable blood-red eyes. Then, a hiss, a snarl, and a growl. If the beast was not snapping at her in anger, it was demonstrating that it could not speak.

"Is there anything I can do for you? What will ease your pain?" Sophitia asked.

Again, the beast was silence for a moment, before hissing. But this time, it appeared to be attempting speech.

"Ssssssssss...orrrrrl...et...ch..."

"What...?"

"...Sssorl etch..."

"Soul Edge?" Mi-na gasped.

The others went on guard immediately, and brought their hands closer to their weapons. The creature saw their hostility, and raised his axe and shield.

"Wait!" Sophitia said, raising her hands. The others stopped. "...Why do you want Soul Edge?"

"...Rrrrrrrrrr...eh...veh...tch. Revetch."

"...Revenge?"

"He wants to use Soul Edge for revenge, and it hates the gods?" Ivy reiterated. "One can easily tell who turned him into such a foul beast."

The lizard man's head whipped to face Ivy, and then it growled and snapped.

"Ivy, be considerate. He still has dignity." Sophitia said. She turned back to the monster. "Do you blame the gods for your current form?"

He nodded his reptilian head emphatically.

"Did they do this to you?"

His head jerked back and forth.

"So you blame them for _allowing_ this to happen to you."

An affirmative snarl.

"Were you loyal to the gods?"

Yes.

"Did you offend them? Do they have a reason to punish you?"

No.

"Then I cannot determine why they would allow you to be cursed in such a way." Sophitia concluded.

The creature stamped one of its talons in anger. It was obviously infuriated, and there was not a soul present who could not tell that it felt wronged and betrayed.

It jutted its axe out, pointing it toward Siegfried. "Sssorl Etch!"

"...We cannot give it to you." Siegfried said simply.

"SORL ETCH!" The creature rasped, stamping its talons. Its rage toward the gods was apparently rekindled by this 'discussion', and it burned with a desire to fulfill its resolve of revenge.

The others grasped the hilts of their weapons in caution. Lizardman interpreted this as a hostile gesture, and dropped into a combat stance. Sophitia turned around, and tried to convince her companions to refrain from any aggressive motions. As she did so, Lizardman obtained a view of the shield that was strapped to Sophitia's back, and the symbol imprinted on it.

"...Ormerra?"

Surprised, Sophitia turned around. "...Did you say...Omega?"

The creature pointed at itself with its axe. "Ksi."

"...You are Xi?" Sophitia asked, her eyes widening in surprise. The others looked at each other in confusion.

"You're one of the others! One of Hephaestus' Twenty-Four! He set you upon the task of destroying Soul Edge, as well?"

Lizardman nodded vigorously.

"I've never met another one of the Twenty-Four..." Sophitia said breathlessly. "...But how could he have allowed such a fate to befall you...?"

As if to echo Sophitia's words angrily, Lizardman returned to his wild, animalistic snarling and stomping.

"Please, wait. Hephaestus responded to our pleas once before. I think he will listen if I beseech him."

Lizardman became calm in a moment. While the others had refrained from speaking, now they became even more silent as they made themselves as still as possible. There is a certain reverence mortals have for the divine.

Sophitia walked down the steps of the temple, and planted her Omega Sword into the ground before her. She dropped down to one knee, and rested her hands on the hilt of the blade in a praying position.

O Hephaestus, please hear me. I have encountered a disciple of the Olympians, one whom you chose to entrust with a duty. He is suffering greatly, and I would ask you why he has befallen such a fate.

Hephaestus' reply came swiftly, but he did not manifest himself as he did previously. The most attuned among them felt something divine in the sky, and tilted their heads back. They beheld a white orb of light bordered by a yellow glow. It descended very rapidly, and slowed to a stop in the air before Sophitia.

The others were quite surprised by the divine response. They were witnessing a miracle, after all. For another thing, it was flatteringly sudden, considering that a god chose so quickly to grace mere mortals with his presence. And third, Hephaestus had arrived in a different nature and a different form than he previously had. Presumably, he was only able to make such a grand entrance at his temple because his power was strongest there, whereas his presence would be slightly underwhelming out in a barren desert.

As before, all present kneeled, understanding the respect due to a god. All except Lizardman, choosing not to pay any respect.

"...Rise." Hephaestus growled.

The mortals looked up at the god fearfully as they stood, wondering what had elicited his anger. Was it Lizardman's lack of respect?

"...Disregard my harsh tone. I am not displeased with anyone here; it is another who has drawn my ire. ...Ares." The god said, rage dripping from every syllable.

Lizardman gave a curious growl.

"He has trespassed against me in a manner most foul. He has stolen one of my servants for a purpose of his own. Ares pulled a veil over this follower, preventing me from being able to see him. I could only assume that this loyal disciple had fallen while serving the duty I gave him. And yet, today I learn that this man lives still, distorted and perverted by Ares' grotesque plans.

"While I recognize Soul Edge as an abomination, Ares, in his greed for power, hungers to possess Soul Edge. It is for this reason that he stole my follower from me, to induct him into a nightmarish cult.

"You, Aeon Calcos, are that follower. The injustice that has befallen you is the fault of Ares, the god to whom you pledged your worship to. It is a betrayal most foul, although I would suspect nothing less to result from the desire to obtain Soul Edge; it taints even the gods with an unholy lust to acquire it.

"I will convene with the other Olympians, and inform them of Ares' deeds. Know, Aeon, that Ares will be punished for his transgressions. I recognize that you have suffered for many years, and as of this moment, I relieve you of the duty I entrusted you with seven years ago. But, above all else, you would wish to return to your true form, would you not?"

Enthusiastic snarls from the reptile.

"Approach me, Aeon. I cannot undo your years of suffering, but I can end them now."

Lizardman scrambled down the steps of the temple, around Sophitia, and underneath the glowing light that embodied Hephaestus. The light descended, grew, and encompassed the lizard man.

The light glowed with a bright, dazzling light, and for once, seemed befitting to personify a god. The others were forced to shut their eyes, unable to bear the intensity - and when they opened their eyes again, they did not behold a monster, but a man.

His hair was short and dark brown. The lower half of his face was adorned by a thin beard, although he was by no means a hairy or filthy man. His figure did not change drastically during his return to human form; his musculature was largely the same, and the armor clad on his body still fit him. Hephaestus had generously bestowed him with a red tunic so that he might retain his dignity, and indeed, he now appeared as a dignified man rather than a barbaric berserker.

That was, at least, until he opened his mouth.

"Raw?" He snarled incredulously while examining his body with clear wonder and elation. Feeling himself move lips for the first time in years, the sounds "Aye kahn tawk?" spilled from his mouth. Many of his following exclamations emerged just as ill-pronounced as the first, but as he continued to speak, he once again gained control over his long-lost mouth, saying, "Thank you, Hephaestus!" many times over.

He seemed too elated to feel shame over the somewhat ungraceful handling of his newfound speech, and he certainly did not feel enough shame to dance merrily, which is what he then proceeded to do. Aeon fell over several times, no longer possessing a tail on which to rely for balance, but the disappearance of his tail only seemed to exhilarate him further.

While the others might have considered this display to be improper behavior under most circumstances, they recognized that they had no idea what Aeon had been through for the past six years, and that they might react in a similar manner upon receiving such a miraculous favor. Siegfried was the only one present who came close to relating personally to Aeon, as he was the only other person present who had ever been forced to inhabit an inhuman form for an extended amount of time.

Once Aeon had exerted himself to the point at which he was unable to continue his ecstatic celebration, he turned upon Sophitia, threw himself at her, and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He sobbed openly and loudly, and thanked her as many times as he had thanked the god. While his manner was uncouth, he could not be blamed for it, and Sophitia returned the embrace gently.

For Siegfried and Ivy, the sight of Lizardman being returned to human form was encouraging. To see a hallmark of their darkest days transformed from a bloodthirsty beast into an euphoric man was undeniably uplifting. The others felt that the sight, as awkward as it may have been, was a touching scene to behold.

Now exhausted, Aeon sat down upon the steps of the temple, and caught his breath.

"...What will you do now, Aeon?" Sophitia asked.

"...My family. I can return to them now." Aeon said, his speech retaining only a fraction of its former slur. "I will return to my homeland as quickly as possible." A pang of guilt seemed to strike him. "I...can't help but feel irresponsible, since I will be giving up the duty Hephaestus gave me - but it was his decree, and so I must obey. ...Can you believe it? I'm talking! That's fantastic!"

Aeon's bursts of joy continued for a short while, but after embracing and thanking Sophitia once more, he bid everyone good luck and farewell, eager to return to his home and family. He shook Siegfried's hand, did the same to Ivy before she could elude him, and then he was off, singing and dancing his way down the Silk Road.

"...Wow." Mi-na remarked. "A man that was half-lizard, a god, and then...that whole song and dance at the end, literally. This is amazing. I can tell that traveling with you people is going to be the most fun thing I've ever done."

On another day, the others might have reminded Mi-na that their journey would not always be a pleasant one, but presently, the mood was too good for that.

"Geez, sis." Cassandra said. "If it weren't for you, we might have ended up killing him or just passing him by."

"Hephaestus deserves the most credit here." Sophitia said, remaining humble as always.

Setsuka and Taki were both overwhelmed by the experience of encountering a god, and seemed speechless. Siegfried and Ivy's commentary was internal. Tira had no remarks, but seemed quite amused by the uncanny spectacles that had unfolded.

Now that the diversion was over, the group finally proceeded into the temple as they had originally intended, and rested.


	45. Sundry of Suffering

Long periods of monotony broken up by brief periods of intense danger.

There is scarcely a more fitting way to describe the group's travels. Their journey was largely without noteworthy incident, with the exception of intermittent instances of peril. They would travel for days, sometimes weeks at a time without remarkable happenings. These periods of uneventful tedium and strenuous travel - what Cassandra was fond of referring to as 'forced marching' - were not unbearable, but the longer the group trekked without an extended period of rest, the lower their spirits would become.

Although there were other issues to occupy his mind, Siegfried was firmly committed to their goal. It was ever-present in his mind, when his personal matters did not distract him. Despite his determination, he knew when it was time to stop and rest so as to relieve physical and mental fatigue. Noting that his companions seemed weary and drained, he announced that they would cease their march and spend a day in rest.

The members of the group separated, attending to the chores that had unofficially become theirs. Siegfried left to gather firewood, while the others pitched the tents. Cassandra did the majority of the complaining - and indeed, most of the talking altogether - and was venting her increasing frustration on Sophitia, the only person who bothered to listen to her anymore.

Sophitia, for the most part, was just going through the paces. Cassandra had a very strong, dominating personality, and her feelings of inadequacy had been gradually increasing as more and more allies were joining them, causing Cassandra to be shunted to the sidelines. Sophitia still had a role to play and much value to the others, but no one particularly cared for her sister.

Cassandra had stressed that fact quite thoroughly in her rantings. "I think the worst part is the silence." She said, watching as Ivy stepped into her tent to began tinkering with her small collection of vials and texts. "Some of us are working on destroying Soul Edge or purifying the shards or whatever, but that doesn't explain why they won't say more than two words to me."

Sophitia did not answer immediately. Cassandra began venting her frustration towards Ivy in particular, a woman who would easily dole out disdain for the younger Alexandra sister. Ivy seemed to reserve a set amount of her verbal abuse for Cassandra, second only to Tira in receiving snide remarks. Following this, Tira was the next topic on her mind.

"...always shacking up with Siegfried at night or following him around like a dog." Cassandra was saying, a substantial amount of venom lacing her words. "And she's so childish, either pouting or giggling...and I'm almost sure that she glares at me when she thinks I can't see her. I swear, I think she watched that whole night in the lake. And - "

"...Night in the lake?" Sophitia repeated. She had been trying to ignore her sister's distasteful statements about Siegfried and Tira, but the sound of something new passing from her sister's lips caught her attention.

A faint blush came to Cassandra's cheeks. "...D-did I not mention it?" She managed to say with her voice just above a squeak. "...U-um, well…a few weeks ago, I was bathing, and...Siegfried..."

She didn't need to say anymore. Sophitia's expression convinced Cassandra to stop talking, and she turned away, too embarrassed to look upon her. Sophitia was at a loss for words, but her heart was racing, and her mind a sea of increasingly painful thoughts.

She hadn't sought Siegfried's embrace out of desire to do harm to Rothion; she was not so petty as to believe revenge had any value. She had only wanted someone to comfort her and show her the love and compassion she'd needed after Rothion's betrayal and terrible remarks. She had not expected Siegfried to be monogamous with her, especially considering his complex relationship with Tira, but she hadn't expected him to lie with her sister, either.

The silence was troubling. "Could you tell me...what happened?" Sophitia asked, far more timid than usual.

Cassandra spoke hastily. "He walked over, and - I'm not sure when it was, but it was pretty late - I think he and I were the only ones awake - I was taking a bath, and he suddenly showed up and asked if he could join me."

"He came onto you?" Sophitia asked, surprised. "Did he...?"

Cassandra guessed by her sister's grave expression what she meant. "He didn't force himself on me. ...I admit, I...wanted to be with him...although...after we got started, it was like he was...an entirely different person. He was so...cold. He barely said anything."

In a way, it was almost comforting to learn that, even though Siegfried had taken on her younger sister as his partner, he had not shared his warmth and compassion with her. ...But, now that she thought of it, the same was also true for herself. Siegfried had seemed increasingly distant as time had progressed, and during the nights she sought his company, he'd become less loving, and more simple and direct; simply going through the motions. What was she supposed to make of this, when she and her sister had taken the same man as their lover, and neither of them had felt love?

Her skin felt warmer than normal, and not simply from blushing so much. She felt...dissatisfied? Angry? Was it possible she was jealous that her sister had managed to lie with Siegfried, when Cassandra had previously been the jealous one?

She didn't want to acknowledge it. She didn't want to say it out loud, and so Sophitia turned from her sister again, trying to find some method to busy herself. Cassandra had been waiting expectantly, as though hoping Sophitia could dole out some sage advice. When none came, Cassandra began to walk away, shifting uncomfortably with her every step.

---

_Multivalent nonmetal. Nitrogen based. Found in most phosphate rocks._

Ivy scribbled out her notes on phosphorus, containing a sigh. She had attempted to use the element's particular allotropes when previous attempts using simple hydrogen and helium explosions had failed in her effort to destroy - or at least damage - the Soul Embrace. Her particular intention had been to create a fire that would continue burning for an extended time when exposed to oxygen, and would hopefully have some effect on Soul Embrace where simpler combustions had failed.

Her research, however, was proving fruitless. She only had so many discovered elements to work with, and the pace of her journey hadn't given her time to consult many other alchemists about their discoveries. She could only inflict so much pressure on the weapon, and each study she'd attempted only made it clearer: Soul Embrace would not be destroyed by simple force.

Even when it seemed as if her latest scheme was feasible, she reexamined her findings to only to identify a material component that had already failed to harm Soul Embrace, and would be back at square one, immediately crumpling her notes and tossing them in their nightly fire.

There was also the disconcerting knowledge that even if Ivy did find some viable method of damaging Soul Embrace, she would never be allowed to carry it out herself. Siegfried and Taki would insure she never laid hands on the sword(s) again.

She did not blame them. It was logical that she should not attempt to wield the Embrace, even for an experiment. Given what had happened when Soul Embrace had been separated, and the control it had so easily exerted over her, Ivy agreed with their decision. If she did find something worth attempting in her research, it would be carried out by proxy. Of course, such a notion disgusted her, as she had no doubt the others couldn't appreciate the intricate detail of using material components and combining them together, and would undoubtedly use too much of one element and not enough of another. It was a precise, difficult task, and Ivy detested the notion of entrusting it to anyone but herself.

Her role in their merry band had become increasingly irrelevant as time progressed. Taki, of course, continued to prove her value by purifying their collected Soul Edge shards, and was quite possibly their best fighter as well. She worked tirelessly, and she knew the lay of the land well (though that was changing as they headed further West along the continent). Ivy's first encounter with Taki over four years ago left a bitter taste in her mouth that hadn't faded since, and constantly following the Japanese woman's lead only served to irritate her further. Siegfried followed Taki's every movement and obeyed her every instruction without hesitation, and even if the others turned a blind eye to it, Ivy could see quite clearly how he examined her. Ivy had made a habit out of using Siegfried's fit body for a bit of fun if the mood happened to strike her, but was disgusted by the attention he doled upon the other women - not because of jealousy, by any stretch, but because she didn't really like any of them.

Cassandra and Tira were irritating brats. Sophitia was too obsessed with her gods and her love for her family. As far as Ivy was concerned, Setsuka was just a whore Siegfried had decided to bring along with them. She respected Taki and Seong Mi-na's skills in combat, but didn't like either of their personalities. Just as before, she found herself lost herself in isolation, with only her sword as a companion.

More and more, she felt superfluous. More and more, she was resenting her traveling companions and the seeming futility of their quest.

More and more, she was wondering whether they were taking the wrong course of action. Zasalamel, as conniving and untrustworthy as he was, might actually know how to separate or destroy the Soul Embrace. Not only this, but there was another powerful foe to consider; as the group proceeded further west, they became more conscious of the rumor they had heard so long ago in China - that the Azure Knight himself had somehow been revived, that he once again ravaged western lands. He was a terror, an abomination...but Ivy wondered - like Zasalamel, could he be a key to Soul Edge's separation, as monstrous as he was?

---

Setsuka had returned from gathering firewood, not entirely sure why she'd agreed to do so in the first place. The wooden chips had fallen all over her kimono, and she would spend a good portion of her evening locating and pruning them. She had brought a few other garments with her, but this garb was her favorite. Siegfried had confirmed her suspicion that he liked it best, and she didn't blame him; it was the most beautiful thing her master had ever given her.

That thought - for whatever reason - brought her more sadness than solace. Only a week ago, Siegfried had requested she continue journeying with them, and she had acquiesced, only to find herself shunted to the sidelines. She liked most of her companions well enough, but more often than not, she didn't have anything to contribute when faced with Soul Embrace. She knew the least about it, and didn't expect she'd ever have time to comprehend Taki and Ivy's complex methods for purifying or destroying the weapon.

She was still a lively conversationalist around their campfire, and enjoyed the others' company very much, but each night seemed worse and worse than the one that preceded it. After finally convincing Siegfried to give in to a night of torrid passion, her lover had become even more distant towards her than before. He was understandably concerned about Soul Embrace and the enemies that sought it, but she couldn't help but feel a little hurt that he'd just returned to his shell once she'd finally forced him out of it.

Her original intention had been to remain in Japan and allow the others to continue their journey without her, but Siegfried had asked her to stay with him. Given the choice of remaining with her companions and a man who could pleasure her, she preferred traveling with them to returning to whatever line of work she could get back in her homeland. She had already avenged her master, and no longer desperately needed any money, so she didn't see a lot of reason not to stay with them.

Now, however, the danger was mounting. She wasn't afraid of dying...nor the pain that would undoubtedly precede it. Yet, she was afraid of the uncertainty set before her. No matter how powerful some of her friends were, they were dealing with forces that were godlike - or outright gods - even monsters. It was entirely possible that they would not all live to see their task completed.

Her companions...for all their faults and tweaks, Setsuka liked them. She didn't want any harm to come to them, and indeed wished they could all remain together and travel together, without such a heavy purpose weighing over them.

Though it certainly didn't seem like a likely possibility.

---

_The new kodachi works well,_ Taki observed, taking a moment to practice her swing and parry with her latest acquisition. _It's not quite as light as Mekki-Maru...but it's sufficient._

She had long since accepted that Mekki-Maru was lost to her - but Taki did not want anything like that to ever occur again, and had been struggling to find methods to improve her fighting style and to unearth new, previously unknown purification arts.

It was necessary for her to expand her repertoire, for none of her techniques had any impact on Soul Embrace. They had far too few shards to attempt to recreate Soul Calibur and integrate it into the joined weapons; the swords were becoming increasingly unstable as the amount of evil energy seemed to increase. As they headed further West, they were risking further and further exposure to the evil auras of the area, and if Taki's efforts slackened at all, Soul Edge could theoretically separate once again, or even corrupt Soul Calibur enough that whatever shards they gathered would become tainted by the evil energy, and the blade would never be purified again. Soul Edge would become complete.

Taki tilted her new kodachi back and forth, looking at the reflection in its blade. A gorgeous face stared back at her.

Taki was aware that she was beautiful. It was an inconsequential fact to her, as good looks had nothing to do with her performance as a ninja. She knew that she would easily be capable of seducing men, but would never do so for any purpose - she found that kind of woman to be despicable, to represent her gender in a foul way. In fact, if it had been up to her, she would rather have been born a man.

She did not value the attention of others, having been raised to be unseen and unheard. She did not value the affection of men, seeking to avoid vanity. She respected the virtues of efficiency, competence, and effectiveness, and all her life had worked to establish a reputation as such, with her only goal being to please her adoptive father. Toki and her clan were no more...but her principles remained the same, and she still believed that her characteristics were virtuous.

Taki was well aware of the nature of men. She knew that different rules governed their bodies than governed her own, that they were enthralled by the female form in a way she could never truly understand. However, she was also aware that men were capable of restraining their desires and conducting themselves with dignity - which is why she had little lenience or respect for men who did not do so. She forgave Siegfried's eyes for their occasional wandering, as it was natural and a trivial matter. Still, Taki saw in those eyes the potential for a problem...

Even a fool would have been able to surmise the nature of Siegfried's relationship with the other women. It took little deduction for Taki to infer that Siegfried had lain with most, if not all of them. She doubted that any of the women were simply trollops - with possible exception of Setsuka - and felt that each of them had their own purpose for seeking Siegfried's embrace. Not too long ago, her impression of the man, after she had gotten a chance to study him, was that he was far more promiscuous than the average male - addicted, if not obsessed with sex. However, she sensed an inner conflict within him, as if he was ashamed of his ways and wished to change them, but was betrayed by his own desires each time he tried to do so. Aware that he felt guilty about his behavior, she did not pass ill judgment upon him. However, she acknowledged the possibility that Siegfried's lust would eventually lead him to pursue her.

The revelation of Seong Mi-na's gender and her reasoning for hiding her womanhood provided the ideal platform for Taki to speak upon the matter of sexism, and subtly make known her disapproval of vulgar desires. Siegfried's reaction appeared to be genuine guilt, and Taki concluded that she would not have to worry about him acting upon any desire for her.

A relief, for she could not afford to spend her time worrying about such matters. Her efforts had to be tireless. Her every action had to be working towards purifying the Soul Embrace, or at least separating the two. She could not allow Soul Edge to return to power. Every one of her companions knew how dangerous that could be. Everyone depended on her, now more than ever before. All accountability rested on her shoulders...

_...It's not that I don't want the responsibility. ...It's just..._

---

"Idiot girl." Ivy spat as she deflected the blade of Mi-na's guan dao with a flick of her Ivy Blade. "Stop using so many direct attacks. The only reason you got through my defense last time was because you used such raw force; don't you think I'm expecting it this time?"

Mi-na only nodded and drew back, grasping the Scarlet Thunder with both hands, holding the staff in front of her. She drew back and began to spin it forcefully with both hands as she stepped towards Ivy, and the British woman separated the Ivy Blade once more, each blade waiting for a command, as Ivy waited for Mi-na's guard to break.

Mi-na found the opportunity and surged forth to attack, ceasing her spin and putting her power behind the thrust. Ivy cracked a smirk and allowed the separated blades to rush forward, towards Mi-na's largely unprotected upper body. The Korean woman dropped down, slamming the hilt of the Scarlet Thunder to the ground and using her own momentum to propel herself upwards, swinging into the air and aiming her foot for Ivy's chin.

Ivy drew back, narrowly avoiding the strike. Before Mi-na could land, Ivy struck her with the flat of the Ivy Blade, slamming her to the ground and separating her from Scarlet Thunder.

"...Better." Ivy acknowledged simply.

Mi-na smiled. "That's all I needed to hear. It won't be long until I'm a better fighter than you!"

Ivy sneered. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You still have a long way to go."

"Fine with me!" Mi-na replied cheerfully, climbing to her feet and reclaiming the Scarlet Thunder. "Shall we spar again?"

Ivy sighed. This girl has far too much energy. She prepared to resume battle, reconstructing the Ivy Blade, before she heard Setsuka call: "Hey, you two! We're eating dinner now. Come and join us!"

Ivy smirked and headed away, and Mi-na fumed: "Hey! We still have another session!"

Ivy turned to glare at her. Nine seconds later, Ivy was squashing Mi-na beneath her heel. "The niceties must be observed, my dear girl. You will appear promptly for dinner and engage in conversation with your allies."

Mi-na continued to squirm beneath her heel before muttering a short: "Yes, Miss Valentine."

After Ivy had released her and strode away, Mi-na clamored up and followed, hoisting the Scarlet Thunder onto her shoulder. She walked a little slower than Ivy did, but was much more energetic, nearly skipping with every movement.

She was improving her skills in combat every day. She was traveling with a group of powerful individuals seeking to destroy the legendary weapon Soul Edge, and they were completely indifferent to the fact she was a woman. Without Yun-seong, Hwang, or her father around to reign her in and drag her back to Han Myeong's temple, she was finally able to let herself loose, as well as demonstrate her combat prowess without being scolded. Much, anyway.

She sat down, close to the fire, as Siegfried sat down across from her, Tira hovering at his right. She had scarcely seen him throughout the day, as he'd spent most of his time resting in his tent, and after that finding the jackal that would serve as their meal for the evening. It wasn't particularly appetizing to Mi-na - who'd become used to chicken and rice at her table - but she didn't complain, and accepted the meal graciously.

She had initially been silently eating, only to catch Ivy's gaze and immediately start talking to Setsuka, and did her best to seem enthralled about the beauty of sakura blossoms.

---

It was late, and Tira was awake. It wasn't unusual for her to be awake so late; she wasn't used to sleeping. She had been raised with the understanding that she would rest only as much as necessary before carrying on her next mission. This journey had led her to sleeping more than ever before, and she enjoyed doing so, lying in the warm embrace of her Master.

Yet, her Master wasn't embracing her. He was sleeping peacefully beside her, and he was present, and he was warm...but she was awake, and he was not. Tira was beside him, yet she was alone, and she found no joy in watching him sleep. They hadn't made love; he hadn't even said anything to her before he laid down and drifted off into his slumber.

In months past, her Master had taken to using her nearly every night, and with every night that passed, he had become less inhibited and less reserved, eventually becoming forceful, even rough with her, often to the point of pain. And then, recently, he had abruptly stopped using her altogether, as though unwilling to do so again. While Tira was relieved that her Master was no longer doing her harm, she now felt as though she was being ignored. She felt as though she had no purpose.

She had tried to leave him once before...she had prepared hours ahead of time, planning her final, scathing remarks, and her ascent to a new, better life. She had been ready to leave him, and not on good terms. She had felt so strong and so confident...until the moment of truth arrived, and she looked into her Master's eyes.

She loved those eyes. The scar upon the left. The thick, dark blonde locks that framed them. Every muscle, every vein, and every part of him. No matter how unkind she had seen him become, Tira could not leave him. He was everything she had.

Yet, through the course of their journey, her Master only slipped further and further from her grasp. She clung tightly to him now, always at his side, carrying out any instruction, providing him every convenience and every pleasure she could...and yet, Siegfried was becoming lost to her. He may have appeared simply distant, but he had always been staunch and stern, with a passionate side beneath the surface. Now that passion was gone from him, and she could not find it, no matter how she tried to draw it out.

She cried now, more than ever before. She couldn't stop it. She couldn't predict it. She couldn't control these emotions raging within her.

_Just leave, Tira. Just...leave._

But how could she? Where would she go? What would she do?

Without Siegfried, she would have no one to share her bed at night. No one to care for and tend to, no one to love...

_Without Siegfried, you could kill._

Her heart began to race as Tira contemplated it. She could cut loose at last, as she had so desperately wished to. If she could not feel the warmth of her Master's body, she could feel the warmth of flesh blood, splattered upon her once more.

To kill, yes, that would do well. That would please her. That would bring her greater pleasure than any mere night of passion ever could.

Yes, she would start slowly, to ease herself back into it. To take in their expressions, and to hear their cries of pain and torment. She would hack away a limb, just one. Her target would hobble, impeded now by the rapid loss of blood and energy. She would follow, swiftly, silently, taking in their fear, their blood, her fuel.

And then she stood above her victim, her ringblade held high, her eyes fixed upon his neck, and then she swung her ringblade down to decapitate Siegfried.

_...Siegfried?_

Tira stopped her ringblade not a hair's breadth away from Siegfried's neck. Had she come to her senses a moment later, her sleeping Master's head would be rolling across the ground. She froze in shock, unable to believe what she had almost done. So wrapped up in bloodlust and thoughts of murder that she had unknowingly prepared to kill the nearest person - her own Master.

You shouldn't have stopped. Kill him, Tira. It's for the best. He's betrayed your trust time and time again. He has run out of uses for you, no matter how good a slave you are.

She didn't want to think such things. She didn't want to believe this was what she wanted. How could she wish any harm to her Master? Why was her ringblade still an inch from his neck? Why hadn't she withdrawn?

_End it all, Tira. You will find nothing more to gain from this man...he doesn't love you. He doesn't need you. He doesn't even want you around anymore. Your only purpose was to appease his desires, and he doesn't need you to do that anymore._

_You can serve him no longer. You have no more purpose here._

Her tears fell and splattered on the cool steel of the ringblade. She contemplated the cut. It would be so fast, so silent, over in all of a second.

And, then, she would be...

...free?

Freedom...exactly what she had sought to escape from in the first place, by seeking Siegfried out. If she killed him, she would be free...and she would still be alone.

_Then find a new Master, Tira. Leave this one, and find a new Master._

Tira reached for her tattered clothing, and began to clothe herself.

_He never spared you his anguish or his aggravation, always using you to vent his own frustration, even doing harm to you in his pursuit of pleasure. If he would not spare you, then does he deserve to be spared by you, Tira?_

Fully clothed, Tira reached for her ringblade again, and raised it high...

_This is your last chance to kill him._

...to sling it around her back.

With one last look at her former Master, she stepped out of his tent, and into the night.

In the past, Tira had never allowed even the slightest disloyal notion to pass through her mind regarding her Master - but as Siegfried no longer held that title, the thoughts she had repressed came rising to the surface, including thoughts of a significant figure that Tira had long forbidden herself to think of, to resist the temptation that he represented.

Whenever Siegfried spoke of the Azure Knight, he stressed one point above all others - Nightmare lives for nothing other than death and destruction. While Tira had subdued her bloodthirsty cravings to avoid displeasing her pacifistic Master, the thought of killing was no less alluring to her now than it was before she'd heard of him. Nightmare butchered every soul he came across, annihilated every town in his path. He was a killing machine - and just the thought of following in his footsteps was making Tira's heart race in ways Siegfried had never done.

It felt so liberating to think so freely when she had been repressing herself for so long, so invigorating to think of killing when she had been deprived of the pleasure for ages. To desire another beside the man she'd served for so long - Tira felt disobedient, defiant, _naughty_, and she loved it.

Yes. Nightmare is the one. But, how to find him?

Nightmare was perhaps the most significant figure in Siegfried's life, but he did not speak of the demon unless it was at the request of one of his companions. It was more than apparent that the Azure Knight was a sensitive, traumatic subject for Siegfried, but few in the group could resist the urge to ask about the abomination.

Although Tira always hung on her Master's every word, there was a particular aspect of Nightmare he mentioned that Tira had found especially memorable - the Watchers. Perhaps because he had used his influence to corrupt them - or perhaps because they are dire aberrations by nature - Nightmare possessed a flock of ravens who acted as his servants, carrying out whatever simple yet dreadful task he asked of them. Often, their purpose was to fly across the world, in search of Soul Edge shards, to snatch them from their resting places and return them to Nightmare, or to inform him of the location if procuring the shards would be impossible for mere birds.

Siegfried had several times told the group to keep watch for ravens, warning the others of the danger that the dark avions represented. The few shards they had managed to collect thus far were dreadful yet valuable treasures, and they could not afford to lose any to Nightmare's pests, were the rumors of his resurrection true.

But tonight, Siegfried's warning would work in reverse.

The sheer amount of intense concentration and energy required to purify a shard left Taki without the ability to immediately cleanse every shard they came across. No, she could only afford to purify a single shard every few days, and so there were multiple impure shards in the tent, yet Tira took only one. There were several others, but she knew she would only need one, for while she was rejecting Siegfried, she had no reason to derail the efforts of her former comrades.

That Tira was able to steal a shard of Soul Edge from Taki's tent speaks volumes of her skill and stealth. To sneak past a ninja, even a sleeping one, is a nearly impossible task, much less stealing from one. But Tira's expertise at covertness and secrecy would prove to be capable of seeing the task done.

With a piece of the evil sword in hand, Tira took to the trees surrounding the camp, and began her trek. Away from her companions, away from their encampment, away from Siegfried. She traveled westward, not to locate Nightmare directly, but to get just a bit closer, while putting distance between herself and the others

She had no idea how long she traveled before she found it - a high, rigid rock atop a tall, grassy knoll, standing out above the hills of rolling plains she found herself in. Tira placed the shard upon this elevated spot, slunk away, and waited. She knew not how long she waited, but the sun had not yet risen when she smelt the aroma of blood and heard the flapping of wings. The red-eyed aberration swooped low and snatched the shard from its perch before taking to the air, heading southwest. Tira took pursuit immediately, feeling an excitement and anticipation that she had not felt since her days with the Bird of Passage.

---

As Nightmare plundered powerful souls and recovered the shattered fragments of the sword, the cracks in the surface of Soul Edge healed one by one, and his goal of reviving the evil sword edged toward completion. After some time, the Azure Knight returned to his old stronghold, Ostrheinsburg Castle. This land, which had once tasted the blood of many, was a fitting stage for the restoration of the evil sword's true power.

But Nightmare was not alone in the castle, for a lone man had pursued him there. The man was one of many who sought Soul Edge for his own reasons, but was one of few who would make it so close to the sword. He wielded a thin blade in his left hand, and the way he held it was the only indication that was needed to make clear his intention to strike Nightmare down. Proud and dignified, he announced his name - Raphael Sorel - before his launching his assault. The two of them faced off in the ruins of the chapel, and the place became alive with flying sparks and blood.

At the end of the fierce battle, Nightmare stood victorious. The evil incarnate stepped forward to finish off his opponent...but deep within the eyes set in the dark helm dwelled the faint light of a soul that was not that of a murderer. It was the will of Siegfried, the man who had been seduced by the evil blade. Siegfried struggled, trying to fight off the nightmare that plagued his mind and body. The spirit of the evil sword sneered at him.

**"Finish him, Siegfried. End his misery. Look at him, disheveled and ruined. His body and honor have been destroyed."**

_"No...I can see it...the proud way he faces his end. He is a brave man. He dies with dignity."_

**"Ha! There is no dignity in being a corpse! Don't bother to prolong the life of this trash. Do it, Siegfried...strike the killing blow. He must perish. You shall cast his body into the darkness. He shall stagnate and rot, steeped in despair, as you squeeze the final gasp from his lungs...!"**

Nightmare forced his host's body to raise the grotesque sword higher, and Siegfried panicked at the thought of seeing his hands take yet another life. _"No!"_ His mind screamed. _"Don't make me kill him!"_ He had begged the same words of Nightmare hundreds of times, and the demon had never relinquished, but Siegfried refused to give up - he would never, ever give up.

Nightmare laughed at his host's pitiful begging, and continued to mock the pathetic man. As he took pleasure in tormenting his host, his body stood motionless - and before him, the wounded man was beginning to rise, his great will enabling his gravely injured body to move for one final purpose. Inhaling his last breath and drawing on his last strength, Raphael lunged forth, stabbing his rapier forward, launching a desperate final attack upon his enemy. The strike's aim was true, and pierced the center of Soul Edge's demonic eye, and when his attack was through, the man fell dead.

Nightmare let out an inhuman cry. Inside him, the crazed, wounded mind of the evil sword clawed at its consciousness, but Siegfried stood with an iron will against the raging storm. The time had come. The eyes that had been dyed crimson by evil were washed away, and the flame of life relit. He who had been host to the cursed sword for so long was once again able to move his limbs of his own accord. In response to the rapidly weakening evil, light poured out like the coming of the dawn...

A sword had appeared along with the light. It was the holy sword Soul Calibur, which had been trapped within the abyss of Soul Edge by its evil power. Unsure of what action to take, but afraid that his window of opportunity was almost shut, Siegfried wasted no time in reaching forth, clutching the sword, and driving it into the evil eye that was the core of Soul Edge.

The blow was not enough to destroy the evil sword. The evil energy of Soul Edge had quieted, but the holy sword had gone silent too.

"This isn't enough..." Siegfried realized. He threw off the detestable armor that represented his worst nightmare, and once he had collected himself, he picked up the strange blade formed by the meshing of the two swords, and left that cursed land. His only thoughts were of finding a way to destroy Soul Edge for all eternity...and to atone for the sins he had committed.

Indeed, there was no way for him to know that the azure nightmare would soon reawaken.

In the instant that the evil sword was pierced by the holy sword, no one noticed the evil flame dwelling within Soul Edge flowing out. The immortal soul of the sword that was forged throughout its long history of slaughter chose to cling onto the remains of the armor strewn on the ground.

The evil soul flowed into the fragmented armor, but trying to manipulate a bodiless host was no easy task. It could not even move, much less hunt souls. With the loss of its own physical body, it lacked the strength to accomplish anything - all it could do was resign itself to its current fate. Calming the burning flame of its will, the will of the evil sword waited for an opportunity.

Some time later, a man bearing a large scythe visited the location in which Nightmare's strewn armor remained. The man could read what had happened by studying the armor and the evil energy hanging in the air.

A thick, unbroken fog blanketed the sky, blocking off the sun's blessing light. In this heavy, humid air portending rain, the spirit of the evil sword and the man with the scythe carried on an unspoken conversation. Perhaps each sought to outwit the other, or perhaps they shared a strange connection that could only be understood by those with an ancient bond...after a few moments, the man agreed to aid the sword.

The man with the scythe performed an ancient ritual, using words of power to distort the laws of nature. The unsteady energy of the cursed sword and the spirits that circled this land were woven together and bound into the remains of the terrible armor. The resentful howling of ghosts roared out over the sound of thunder. An unsteadily wavering silhouette took shape, and the soul of the evil weapon had regained the shell of its former host. This revived being was clad in blue armor that shone with an evil light. Not a trace of damage remained. Out of its hand oozed a tremendous, unusually-shaped sword that resembled the cursed blade. From the memories etched into the armor, an entity that was supposedly gone from this world had found a new incarnation.

Sometime during this event, the tears of heaven had begun to fall. They struck his body futilely, as if trying to wash away the evil karma with which he was stained.

His face expressionless, the man with the scythe imparted no words, and vanished into the air.

Soul Edge had started a new existence as an individual being. This may have been the first opportunity the cursed sword had had to interact with the world as its own self. Starved for souls, he fled the castle and attacked and consumed all whom he encountered. Motivated by a pure impulse to destroy, and an unending hunger, Nightmare went on a mad rampage. The hearts of those he assailed were clutched by an inescapable terror until the very last moment of their lives. Not even death would bring peace to their souls, for they were trapped in the fiery hell of Soul Edge's core, their pain and anguish nothing more than food for the blade.

Rumors of a merciless butcher and the terror of the azure nightmare spread throughout Europe once again.

---

"...and they say that it make any one man more powerful than an entire army. It has the ability to slaughter hundreds of warriors, and is also able to feast upon the blood and the souls of the men it slays."

"HA! A single man, more powerful than a whole army? That's nothing but foolish drivel. It's ridiculous to say such a thing. I'm afraid only the gullible would fall for a fairy tale such as that, my friend."

"...Let us hope that the rumors are as feeble as you insist. Should there exist a weapon capable of taking hundreds of lives in a single engagement, it would not only be devastating...but sorrowful. A weapon with the ability to erase so great a number of people is nothing less than a tragedy, soldiers or not..."

---

_Completion._

_Power._

_Souls._

The same thoughts ran through the demon's 'mind' over and over again.

_I am diminished. I am not whole. I must rebuild myself._

_I am weakened. My strength has been reduced. I must make myself powerful._

_The best source of energy...the essence that composes a human being...Souls. I require more souls. I require more souls._

_Souls._

Nightmare raised his phantom blade, and plunged it into the ground before him, sending a spray of dirt into the air. The Azure Knight became silent and still. The two beady 'eyes' that glowed in his helm dimmed until their red shine was gone. The Knight's tool of destruction had become as a dowsing rod...yet this diviner thirsted not for water, but for human essence.

His sword's sensitivity to souls could be used to point him in the direction of the nearest human - however, as useful as this ability was, the land of Europe rarely granted him larger harvests than tiny hamlets and small villages. He was pleased to locate larger settlements and towns, but they were all filled with weak, pathetic souls.

Nightmare was starting to become increasingly irritated with his underwhelming reapings...but today would be different. Today, he would come across a truly uncommon finding. As Nightmare concentrated on his weapon, he could feel an extraordinary number of souls...several hundred, perhaps half a thousand, and each of them moving toward his position. Even more unexpectedly, the majority of these souls were powerful - not outstanding, certainly not the most impressive he had come across, but these souls were square meals compared to the tiny appetizers he had been downing.

What circumstances could create such a scenario as this? He pondered the matter for a moment, and the realization came to him quickly. _...Army. A battalion of soldiers is approaching. ...Do they come for me?_

The notion of a half-thousand men marching toward Nightmare to slay him did not cause the slightest amount of fright or alarm. The only thing capable of stirring something close to 'fear' within the Azure Night was Soul Calibur itself. Instead, what Nightmare felt at the moment was something akin to pride. To think that he was such a disciple of terror, death, and devastation that a battalion would be sent to destroy him? It was almost...flattering.

Nightmare was not one to be virtuous or humble, but he had to accept the possibility that this grand company was not in fact devoted to his death. He knew nothing of national politics and world situation - was there a war? He could feast on the mass death...where was this army heading to?

As he put his sense of direction to work, Nightmare realized where the army was traveling. His smugness faded, replaced by irritation.

...That man.

Raphael Sorel.

He had been defeated. His body sundered, his breath haggard, his consciousness fading, the Frenchman was within an inch of death. Nightmare took a mere moment to disregard his foe and taunt his foolish host - and in that moment, the man drew upon the last ounce of strength in his gravely wounded body, forced himself forward, and struck a blow so deeply piercing that Soul Calibur was freed from its prison within the abyss of Soul Edge...and in that moment of stinging pain Nightmare had never before experienced, everything was lost. His power escaped him, his host abandoned him, and everything was set back to square one. If not for the man with the scythe, Nightmare would be nothing more than a sapient will beneath a crumpled suit of armor right now.

_At least the man who wrought this is dead,_ thought Nightmare.

But this comforting notion turned out to be false, for Raphael lived on.

When his reincarnation was complete, Nightmare surveyed the area and found the man's corpse to be absent. Later, in his travels, he passed a land contaminated by an evil force - energy he distinctly remembered. The energy was that of Raphael. Sorel had come back to life after dying - he was as undead as that Spanish pirate. His corpse had been contaminated with Soul Edge's own evil energy, until his body was infused with enough dark power to function once more. A second Cervantes, that man. Tainted by evil, Raphael polluted the land he tread in with his corruption. He was lord of a castle now, and the land around it was consumed by evil. Nightmare dared not to tread in that land, for he refused to consume energy produced by that foul Frenchman.

Nightmare loathed that man. He had ruined everything. He had been rightfully defeated, and then one lucky, frantic lunge tore down everything the Azure Knight had worked for. Nightmare shook with anger. How he would love to run his sword through that man, punish him for what he had done - but he could not. Nightmare had been forced to start over from scratch, and was still only a shadow of his former self. Were he to fight the enhanced Raphael, he might be defeated. Nightmare did not fear the man, he merely abhorred him and planned to see him dead once the opportunity presented itself.

And this battalion, if its direction was any indication of its destination, intended to claim Sorel's life, as well. Undoubtedly, someone important had become aware of the abnormality of the area, and had ordered a military force to destroy its source. Raphael was powerful and undead, but the force of an army could crush him. At his current strength, Nightmare might not be able to defeat Sorel - but with Soul Edge in hand, an army was nothing. Nightmare would recover his strength as he claimed lives, an invincible force when set upon a group...but in a duel with a single opponent, the dynamics were far different.

Nightmare could see them coming over the horizon now. Hundreds of men, their souls ripe and ready to be plucked from their bodies. With the strength they would give him, perhaps Nightmare's strength would be augmented enough to finally kill Sorel. _Yes...it's possible._ The Azure Knight hoisted the Phantom Soul Edge from the ground, and turned in the direction of the army.

_Souls._

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** Today, October 31st, 2007, is the second anniversary of I Am Your Slave. One year, 45 chapters, 345 reviews, 100,000 hits, and 200,000 words later, I'm amazed at how far we've come. I never imagined the story turning into such a lengthy epic when I wrote the first two chapters - but I'm happy with what it has become. I regret that I have begun to update less frequently, and that readership has dropped sharply as a result. I appreciate the readers who remain and send me words of encouragement after all this time, and I can only hope that I am pleasing you.

The announcement of Soul Calibur IV has made me painfully aware that my story is temporary - that is to say, it is relevant now, but upon the release of SCIV, it will be outdated and obsolete. It causes me sadness to know that my story has a shelf life, a time frame in which it can be enjoyed before being replaced by the next installment - but this only pushes me to make the best of what time I have remaining. No matter how superior SCIV is to SCIII, I will never forget the joy that SCIII has brought me through the creativity that it has inspired.

As we move into the third year of IAYS, I hope to deliver an enjoyable and compelling story, and hope to provide future chapters more swiftly. Once again, I thank and appreciate all readers who are still reading the story. You have my gratitude, and you will never know how encouraging you are to me.

Here's to Year Three, all the fans, and the approaching conclusion of a beloved story.


	46. Crimson Feast

"...Damn."

The word escaped Private Marius' mouth as soon as he heard the order, but he managed to hide his curse within a mutter just enough that no one around him really noticed, or at least they pretended not to. None of the five hundred soldiers even bothered to look in his direction, their gazes still fixed upon the figure in the distance.

Marius glared at the unsympathetic and disinterested faces belonging to men who would live longer than he would. Out of five hundred, why had the commander called his name? It had to be somebody, but what were the chances it would be him? No - it had nothing to do with chance. The commander hated him, everyone knew it, that's why he was getting sent to his death before everyone else.

Marius pretended he hadn't heard the order. He knew he wouldn't get away with it, but he wanted to bide what little time he had left. The commander didn't wait long before speaking again.

"Private Marius, I know you heard me."

Marius gave his horse a light kick with his spurs, and off he went. He galloped forward at a somewhat sluggish pace, trying to stave off the inevitable task that lay before him for as long as possible. He wasn't in a hurry to get to his destination by any means. No one could blame him.

About halfway to the figure in the distance, Marius' horse stopped walking. He spurred it again, flicked the reins, even told it to giddy-up, but it refused to budge an inch. To Marius' surprise, the animal actually turned around and started trotting back the way he'd come. Knowing the horse would take him no further, he dismounted.

Marius decided that there was no point in being soldier-like and formal. Just ask the question that everyone wants to know, be done with it.

"HAIL!" He called out to the figure. "ARE YOU THE AZURE KNIGHT?"

Until now, the figure had been still. No doubt it was waiting for the army to draw closer rather than waste energy charging at them. Now, however, it seemed that the figure was through waiting. From a distance, his silhouette had been ambiguous, but now that he moved, his appearance was clear - he was a man clad in large, blue armor, wielding a flesh-colored broadsword in a grotesque giant claw.

Marius knew that cowardice in the Walachian army was punished by an arrow to the head, but he decided to take his chances. He turned to climb onto his horse, but it had already galloped off. He turned around again, and saw the monster charging toward him. He thought back to his basic training, but he couldn't even remember the first thing about swordfighting anymore. All he could think about were his regrets and his missed opportunities.

Suddenly, Marius felt weightless, and taller than normal. He realized that he was being held several feet up off the ground. Looking down, he saw a large purple eye staring back at him, and then noticed the giant red-and-black sword that was currently passing through his abdomen. He studied his executioner. An elaborate helm with a long horn and vertical fin extending from the top. A chest that was home to a large green mouth that housed an impressive number of sharp jaws. A shoulder that also doubled as a deadly maw, and, of course, the claw, each talon as long as a grown man's arm.

Marius felt himself slipping toward the sword - not by his body, but by his very life force. The sword had a hold of his soul itself, and that purple eye grew larger and larger until it engulfed him completely, condemning him to suffer endlessly in the abyss contained within it.

Nightmare whipped his sword to the side, and Marius' limp body sailed away. The Azure Night hunched down low to the ground, then rushed at his prey. The army before him readied their shields and swords - either too noble to flee, or convinced that their numbers would grant them victory - and the two forces charged at one another until they clashed.

---

Raphael Sorel grew up with religious strife as his cradle, the scheming of noble families as his lullaby, and the rapier as his playmate. His cool, unemotional demeanor created many enemies, but his quick and precise decision-making and execution skills solidified the foundation of his family amongst other noble clans.

Unfortunately, Raphael made a critical mistake during the year of the notorious Evil Seed catastrophe. He discovered too late that one member of nobility supported by the Sorel clan became insane from the effects of the Evil Seed. As a result of his error, Raphael's enemies had justification to hunt him down. To make matters worse, members of his own family surrendered quickly and offered to hand over Raphael in order to protect themselves.

Raphael hid himself in an impoverished town to escape from his pursuers and family members. But, accustomed to a life of privilege without want, Raphael could hardly bear the cold and hunger he suffered in the slums.

The authorities that ran the town were greedy, and treated the townspeople unfairly. When the authorities heard that there was a bounty for the capture of a French nobleman, a search began immediately. Raphael was discovered and pursued, and surely his malnourishment and exhaustion would have led to his capture...were it not for the assistance of a shy, penniless orphan girl. With a simple gesture, she led his pursuers off his path, and Raphael was concealed from them safely.

For the little girl, helping Raphael was only a simple deed motivated out of spite for the unkind authorities. For Raphael, a man who until then lived by his own means, it marked the first time he owed his life to someone else. He felt emotions that he had never experienced before, and the girl became an irreplaceable presence in Raphael's life.

Her name was Amy.

Raphael's exposure to life in the slums made him see the world in a whole new light, and realize the meaninglessness of everything he had valued thus far in life. Nobles quarreled constantly and only thought of their petty interests and self-preservation. And the commoners, tired of constant warring, had given up hope. The world was filled with people whose soulless, meaningless lives made them no better than the dead.

Convinced that the chaos of war was no place to live a meaningful life, Raphael took Amy and left the poverty-stricken town. Avoiding war-torn lands, they moved to a town in the countryside. But even with the new surroundings, he could not get Amy to open her heart to the world. Even though her life in the slums strengthened the 10-year old girl's wariness of life and gave her a tenacious will to live, it erased any sense of hope she had for the future.

Assuming a false name, Raphael befriended a rich noble to obtain the means to take care of the young girl. He employed his cunning to gain the trust of the lord and those around him. And when the opportunity arose, Raphael poisoned the noble, disposed of his body, and spread word that the lord had "left on a long journey."

One day, Raphael found a letter with references to the Evil Seed - the turning point in his life - in the mansion library. He was fascinated by the information, and it wasn't long before he made the connection between the Evil Seed and Soul Edge.

Soul Edge - a demonic blade that promises power...in exchange for one's sanity.

What if such a sword were thrust into the hands of the pathetic nobles? They would undoubtedly fight feverishly for the weapon, and ultimately destroy themselves. Commoners would be unfortunate victims of the war, but their existence mattered little, for they were no better off then the dead.

If only petty, war-mongering nobles could be eliminated, surely he could secure a meaningful future for Amy. But in order to accomplish such a goal, Raphael would need a drastically powerful tool...

...And Soul Edge would be more than sufficient.

Raphael was unique among seekers of the legendary sword in that he actually came astonishingly close to wresting it from the hand of its owner, Nightmare. Unfortunately, the Azure Night was too overwhelmingly powerful, and Raphael lost the fight.

Raphael's injuries were mortal, and his demise was imminent. As his consciousness faded, and as his ghastly foe stood above him, there was only one thing present in his mind.

"...A...Amy..."

For an instant, an emotion that was neither anger nor pride flared up inside him, and he overcame his pain and forced his body to move. He put every remaining ounce of strength in his body into one desperate attack...

And that was the last thing he could remember.

---

Tira was overwhelmed. Never before had she been awash in such death - soaked in such destruction, drenched in such tragedy.

The field that Tira stood upon was literally covered in the bodies of the dead. It was as if every grave of a cemetery had been upturned, bringing the corpses to the surface. The sky above was a foreboding grey, and the ground was dirtied with soil and blood from the struggle. Where Tira stood, the cadavers were spread thin - but closer to the epicenter of the massacre, it was impossible to walk without treading atop the bodies of the dead.

And at the core of this field of death, there stood a figure dripping with blood, his silhouette unmistakable. That powerful form, that massive blade, the carpet of corpses that surrounded him...he was feared across all lands as a living nightmare, he was the slayer of thousands, he was the foundation of Siegfried's suffering.

Tira beheld the Azure Knight at last.

Nightmare's posture was bent forward, not in exhaustion, but concentration. Slowly, but noticeably, a blue mist began to form on the ground at his feet. The mist seemed to emanate from the bodies of the dead, and flowed into the air above Nightmare, funneling down toward him, and his grim sword.

The blue haze being channeled into Nightmare was the essence of the humans he had slain, their very souls, the substance that Soul Edge yearned for. The mist grew in thickness and size, and drifted toward Nightmare with increased speed; before long, the souls were as a tornado, a blue whirlwind of spirits growing in size until the entire field contributed to the massive display. It took only a few minutes for Nightmare to absorb the energy of all the hundreds of men whom he had slain, and the whirlwind faded away.

There was no movement to be seen, save for a dark shape traveling in slow circles around Nightmare. It was the shadow cast from a bird in the sky above - the Watcher that Tira had followed to this morbid scene. As Nightmare's work was done, the bird swooped down and released its grip on the item it clutched in its talons. Nightmare's free hand lashed out and caught the shard, and then drove it into the phantom blade that served him as a placeholder for the true sword.

The only business left here was the voyeur who had been silently watching him.

Nightmare turned around to face her. He could feel her soul - it was peculiar. She was distressed and suffering, but at the same time, she was ecstatic and overjoyed. He could feel her anguish and torment, but he also felt delight and elation. She was a mess, a jumble of different emotions, desires, and thoughts. But there was one thing he could not sense within her - fear.

She began to approach him. She sprinted towards him with a bounce in her step, nearly prancing or skipping as she neared him. If her plan was to puzzle the Azure Knight, she had succeeded.

However, the will of Soul Edge was not one to be curious, nor to one lend its ear to emotionally unstable girls. Nightmare had no interest in dealing with humans beyond killing them, and had no reason to care about this strange woman. He readied his blade, and prepared for her to come within range.

She stopped just short of the reach of his weapon, bowed deeply, and spoke.

"Oh, Master! I've been waiting for this day! The day when I can finally introduce myself to you!"

_Master._ No human had ever spoken to him this way before. It was...different. It was enough to make Nightmare wonder what she would say next. The girl had bought herself a few more seconds of life.

"My name is Tira! And, as of this moment..." She kneeled down. "...I open the most sacred depths of my heart and accept your will into myself, Master!"

The reason for referring to him as 'Master' became clear. _She accepts my will - she gives herself to me as a slave?_

Nightmare laughed. An unnatural, unpleasant sound - the Azure Night was unaccustomed to laughter. "You submit yourself to me?" He said, in a tone reminiscent of amusement. "You seek to become my servant?"

Tira faltered slightly upon hearing Nightmare's voice - it was not dissimilar to Siegfried's voice. Understandable - the two had been one for several years. The similarity was almost too much to bear - to hear her Former Master's voice yet again, and to hear it coming from his antithesis...the experience was unnerving.

"Ha!" Nightmare barked. "I can see your uncertainty as clearly as the sun - you lack the resolve to surrender yourself to my control."

"...No! That's not true, Master!" Tira pleaded. "I am ready. I am ready to become yours!"

"And, why? Why do you do this?" Nightmare asked. Such curiosity was uncharacteristic of him, but today he would make an exception.

"I do this because...I have no will of my own - I don't know how to direct myself. This is why I need a Master, one who will guide me and use me."

"And why do you choose me to be this 'Master' of yours?" Nightmare asked.

"From what I have been told, you are nothing more than a desire, correct? Nothing but pure will...whereas I have no will of my own. You and I compliment one another perfectly! And it's not just that - you see, from childhood, I was raised and trained to take the lives of other people. Killing was a part of my daily life - it is unnatural for me to _not_ kill. I want to kill, Master, I need to - and you need the energy that escapes a human upon death, correct? Then my desires are the same as yours! Oh Master, don't you see? We are made for each other! I cannot think of a more perfect match!"

Tira lowered herself onto her hands and knees, and began to crawl toward Nightmare, looking up at him desperately. "I need your direction and guidance, Master. I want your orders and commands. I will kill for you, retrieve shards for you, do whatever you desire! Please, Master? Take me as your slave?"

---

He should have been dead. Yet, for some reason, he lived.

Raphael did not understand how his grievously wounded body could still function despite its lethal injuries. The Azure Night was gone, as well. Had he been spared?

Although the state of his body defied the conditions for living, Raphael miraculously managed to struggle to his feet and drag himself away from Ostrheinsburg, and make the long trek back to his mansion. He spent several days on the brink of death, but he eventually recovered.

At this time, Raphael did not notice the evil energy radiating from the wounds he had received from Soul Edge - energy that was now eating into his body. It was an event known as Malignity Transformation - the phenomenon of intense evil energy corrupting the body, even fueling it. By the time Raphael realized he had fallen prey to such an affliction, it was already too late - the symptoms had spread to Amy, who had spent much time at his side as she nursed him back to health.

No symptoms appeared to indicate that their minds had been infected, but cursed blood pulsed through their bodies nevertheless. Their skin lost its color, and their eyes shone with a wicked light. During the day, they felt weak and sluggish, and when night fell, they felt a powerful thirst. The two of them realized that they were no longer human.

Before long, the people living nearby had learned of their strange condition. Misconstruing it as some sort of a plague, they attempted to drive away their lord. Furious, Raphael contemplated taking revenge on the peasants for their impudence, but his priority was protecting Amy. He put aside thoughts of retribution and, together with Amy, left southern France.

It was a frustrating fate. This was the second time that the evil sword had forced him to endure this kind of humiliation.

"I shall make use of my fate, even this!" Raphael swore to himself. He arrived in Eastern Europe. Taking advantage of the war that had spread throughout the land, he purchased a castle ruin in the mountains and began a life apart from the outside world.

Raphael had no intention of living life on the run forever, however. Amy had been transformed into a being that could not interact with the normal world. To Raphael, the only solution, then, was to change the world itself. His plan, woven from threads of madness, proceeded in secret. His condition spread, starting with the area around the castle, soon moving on to nearby villages and the neighboring city. Eventually, this country, then this continent, then the entire world would change...

---

For the first time since his resurrection, a human had become within the reach of Nightmare's weapon, and yet his sword was still. He pondered the girl's bizarre request, which would still have been unconventional even if Nightmare were a normal human. He had not cooperated with others since his time with Ivy, Astaroth, and the Lizard Man - taking on a servant would be bizarre...but could it be wise? He weighed the options in his mind. Should he kill her, he would have one more soul - should he allow her to live, and give her directions, her assistance could lead him to procure more shards, and eliminate problems he could not have handled himself. Indeed, the most prudent decision would be to accept this girl's proposition.

"...Rise, slave."

Tira's eyes grew wide, elation spread throughout her face, and Nightmare could sense that her soul was overwhelmed with joy. She stood up proudly, and eagerly anticipated his next command.

Nightmare felt something akin to satisfaction, upon seeing the girl obey his words. It was gratifying to speak a command and see it obeyed.

"What shall I do for you, Master?" Tira asked gleefully, her eyes twinkling with delight. "What do you need accomplished?"

_Raphael's death._

Nightmare's existence was dedicated to a single purpose - the accumulation of souls - but there was one task besides the reaping of souls that Nightmare longed to achieve - the elimination of the man who ruined everything for him, who destroyed his progress and cost him a host. If Nightmare could have a single wish outside of his mission to restore himself and re-acquire his sword…it would be to see Raphael dead.

Nightmare knew it would be unwise to fight Raphael in a weakened state, and so he had gathered souls - by now, was he ready to destroy the man? Or had the time not yet come? Nightmare had long wished to end the life of the Frenchman by his own hand; however, this new circumstance changed his plans.

Nightmare did not wish to entrust his servant with any task at all, if her competence and capabilities were unproven - it was necessary, then, for her to prove her worth. And what better task than to eliminate Nightmare's enemy for him? If Tira could kill Raphael, then she would prove her competence - and if she were not capable enough to cause Raphael's death, she was an inept and worthless servant. He was already making a strange deal with the girl; Nightmare would settle for nothing less than complete satisfaction from her.

"North of here, there is a region poisoned by the taint of a man named Raphael Sorel. You will find him, kill him, and bring me his head. I will entrust you with several of my Watchers to provide aid. I will give you seven days to complete this task. If Raphael is not dead by that time, you will no longer be my slave."

Nightmare sensed the girl's soul change again - her elation became viciousness, her joy became a lust for blood. It appeared that this girl possessed two distinct identities.

Tira grinned wickedly and bowed deeply. "Your will shall be done, Master." She purred. Tira turned northward, and darted off with haste. Black shadows chased after her, as Nightmare's Watchers gave pursuit.

It was rare for Nightmare to indulge in such diversions as entertaining the wild dreams of an insane girl - but it had done no harm, and he had been amused. At best, she would prove herself useful, and kill Raphael. At worst, she would die, he would spend seven days gathering strength, and then he would kill Raphael himself. There were no losses here, and Nightmare eagerly awaited the results of this experiment.

A slave. How interesting.


	47. Empty Heart

Siegfried knew something was wrong the moment he realized that he did not feel Tira's warmth against his body.

Tira always lay beside her Master until he rose from bed. She never spent a moment away from him unless told to do so. Siegfried knew better than to overreact over something so minor - but Tira's habits were unwavering. What would cause her to rise before him?

Fighting back the anxiety beginning to rise within him, Siegfried chastised himself for his concern. _She probably left to relieve herself, as all people must do. She will return within minutes._

And yet, Siegfried was familiar enough with Tira's nature to know that he was in denial. Tira would wait for her Master no matter what manner of stress her body was subject to, and would never break a longtime habit for fear of disappointing him.

Siegfried could do nothing but wait for Tira, as he attempted in vain to calm himself. _To think that I, the man responsible for so much death, the man who has sworn to destroy Soul Edge, would become so troubled by something as trivial as this. It is unbecoming. There are far more serious matters at hand than whether or not Tira lies beside me._

And yet, as he imagined a life in which Tira did not lay beside him, Siegfried experienced a feeling of emptiness. He realized that if Tira did not share his bed, he would feel as if something was missing. Tira's presence had gradually become a firm part of his life. Removing Tira from his company was like removing blue from the sky, or heat from fire. He would be incomplete without her.

It had been months since Siegfried had taken the time to reflect on Tira's role in his life. He realized now that she had become a part of the background, a piece of scenery to him. He expected her to always be there, and so he paid no attention to her, because he had no fear that she would ever be gone.

And so, it was only Tira's absence that could cause him to take notice of her. When she was readily available to him, she seemed less valuable. A common metal is considered dull, but a rare metal is considered a treasure.

Only when he could not reach out and touch her did Siegfried realize how much he treasured that touch. Now that Tira's true value had become apparent, Siegfried realized with a sharp pang of guilt that he had not treated her with the respect that she had deserved. He had been indifferent to her, caring not for her emotions. He had been rough with her, caring not for her pleasure.

It was now and only now that Siegfried was finally able to see how he had mistreated Tira. He felt overwhelmed with guilt and regret. Memories returned to him of the remorse and shame that he felt when he awoke to see dozens of innocent people, dead by his hand. His cruelty to Tira did not compare to his slaughtering of innocents, but this was the first time since those dark days that he had felt so much guilt and embarrassment.

_I will rectify this. I will cherish her. I will let her know how much I appreciate her at every opportunity. She must know how much I value her. She must know how much I want her to stay by my side._

_...But where is she? Why did she leave my side?_

Siegfried placed his hand upon Tira's pillow repentantly, only to draw it away with haste. He leaned forward to confirm what he felt, and saw that it was true. There was a damp stain on Tira's pillow as if water had been spilt - or tears had been shed.

Siegfried's remorse and shame grew deeper, as did his urge to see his slave once more. He bolted from his crude bed and dressed himself quickly, ignoring his armor for now. He emerged from his tent, and scanned the campsite. Cassandra was the only one present, cleaning up the remains of last night's campfire. The rest of the women were apparently still asleep.

"...Good morning, Siegfried." Cassandra said. There was a degree of uneasiness in her voice, but Siegfried did not take notice.

"Good morning - have you seen Tira?"

Cassandra seemed hurt, but again, Siegfried did not observe it. "I've been awake for an hour. I haven't seen her."

Trying to quell his growing panic, Siegfried began to walk around the campsite, hoping in vain that doing so would somehow reveal Tira to him.

"It's unusual for me to wake up so soon." Cassandra said, hinting that her early rise was something that Siegfried should inquire about. He did not respond. "I didn't sleep very well last night." She said, trying a more direct approach.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Siegfried replied, increasingly tense and frantic in his march around the campsite.

"...Never mind." Cassandra muttered.

After a few minutes, Siegfried ceased his futile search, acknowledging that Tira would not magically appear to him if he walked around the campsite enough. He sat upon a wooden stool and ruminated over his failures and regrets.

Several minutes later, Siegfried and Cassandra were startled by a distressed Taki erupting out of her tent. Her sudden exit did not alarm them as much as the distraught expression on her face - a rare sight except in the most dire of circumstances.

"One of our shards is missing." She reported tersely.

Siegfried bolted upright. "What?"

"Stolen from my tent during the night." She explained. "I have detected assassins in my sleep numerous times. The thief was extraordinarily skilled."

Siegfried began pacing. He was thankful that something, anything was distracting him from Tira, but he was no less stressful. "Why take only one shard? Why not kill us?"

"I think it was a warning." Taki said. "They want us to know that they could kill us at any time. Someone wants us to stop our quest."

"If they wanted us to stop, they could have stolen the Soul Embrace, as well. No need to stop at a single shard."

"I think you two are approaching this the wrong way." Cassandra said. "Who is incapable of taking more than one shard at a time? Who is incapable of killing us, only stealing from us?"

Siegfried nearly disregarded Cassandra's words as a futile attempt to seem wiser than himself and Taki, but then gave her a chance. As he thought her words over, the answer became all too clear to him.

"A Watcher." Siegfried said. "The Watchers would only deliver me - _Nightmare_ - a single shard at a time."

"One of those abominations was in my tent?!" Taki practically hissed.

"...If it was a Watcher...it will lead him back to us...he may already be on his way..." Siegfried was under more strain and tension than he could bear. _One thing after another. Why is everything falling apart?_

Cassandra and Taki were unnerved by Siegfried's uncharacteristic fear. If the stone-faced Siegfried was terrified, then they must certainly be facing their doom.

"...We don't know for certain that it was a Watcher." Taki said, attempting to calm Siegfried so as to calm herself. "Let us consider other possibilities."

Siegfried shut his eyes tight and tried to put his weary mind into motion. _Tira is gone...there may have been a Watcher in our camp...Nightmare may be coming for us..._

_...Tira...Watcher...Nightmare..._

A scenario appeared in Siegfried's mind. It was only one possibility, and there was not enough evidence to take it as fact - but Siegfried knew it was true, simply knew without any solid proof at all.

_I can't believe I didn't consider it sooner. I was simply too fond of her to imagine that she would be the thief._

_But would Tira really seek to deliver a shard to Nightmare? Why? What would she want with him?_

Words from the past took Siegfried's mind.

**"...Tira...if you are unsatisfied with me...with the direction in which things are moving...then you are free to leave. I understand if I am not a satisfying master. I understand if you would rather leave me, and find another master, if what you want cannot be found with me."**

His very own words to Tira, spoken so long ago, shortly after he had met the woman named Xianghua. He had given her permission to leave him if he did not satisfy her. He had given her permission to find another master who could give her what she wanted.

He recalled what Tira had told him after they shared a bed together for the first time - she had been an assassin for many years, trained to kill since childhood. After Siegfried had demonstrated his pacifistic methods to Tira, she had never spoken of her grim origins again, nor had she taken a life she was not forced to take. But on the occasions when Siegfried had witnessed Tira draw her blade, he had seen a thirst for blood in her eyes, a lust for death. It was quite obvious that she had been hiding her true nature from him as part of her vow to never displease him, in order to avoid conflicting with his pacifism. Siegfried had done his best to ignore it, to deny it, to see Tira the way he wanted to see her - but deep down, he had known from the beginning that she was a murderer, by her own admission.

Tira had told Siegfried that she wanted to serve him because she was similar to him. But perhaps the closest match for Tira was not Siegfried at all. Perhaps his darker half was in fact the one who was more alike.

Tira, bowing to that abomination, pledging herself to him, serving him...

Pleasuring him...

Siegfried felt bile rising in his throat. No longer possessing the strength to stand, Siegfried took his seat again and put every ounce of willpower into controlling the emotions welling up within him.

"Siegfried? What is it? Have you figured it out?"

"...Tira is gone. She left." Siegfried said. His voice was flat and emotionless. It reminded Cassandra of the cold, detached voice that he had spoken with the night he took her purity.

"...Siegfried!" Taki gasped. "Do you think Tira may have been the one who stole the shard?"

"It is possible." Siegfried said. This time, his words were uneven. It seemed as though his voice was starting to crack.

"What do you think she wanted with a single shard?" Cassandra asked.

Siegfried hesitated before answering. When he spoke, his words sounded hollow. "Tira is well-meaning, but misguided. She may have decided to kill Nightmare in order to please me, thinking that the task would be simple. She may have taken the shard so that she could allow a Watcher to take it, and follow it back to Nightmare so that she may attempt to kill him."

Cassandra's mouth hung open, yet no words came out. Taki closed her eyes and digested this information.

"Wow." Cassandra said. "I can't tell if that's brave or stupid. She means well, but she shouldn't have acted without telling us. And what's more than that, she's probably going to get herself killed! It's her own fault for being so careless and - " Cassandra froze, petrified by the look on Siegfried's face. It was a dreadful combination of fury, disgust, and hate. Cassandra fell silent and looked down.

Taki said nothing. She appeared to be deep in thought.

When the other women awoke, they were informed of the news. While there was no ironclad evidence to support it, the women agreed with Siegfried's explanation, considering it something that Tira would be likely to do.

The others could plainly see that Siegfried did not wish to speak about Tira's departure, and so they did not discuss the issue. Even Ivy, who usually leapt at the chance to say "I told you so", kept her mouth closed to avoid any unnecessary clash with Siegfried.

The women asked Siegfried if he would prefer to wait for Tira to return before breaking camp and leaving, but Siegfried said no. They disembarked and continued their journey.

For Siegfried, solitude was a thing of the past. His entourage constantly kept him company - whether he wanted it or not. Siegfried could not remember the last time he experienced feelings of seclusion.

However, despite the fact that there were six women just a few feet away from him, Siegfried had never felt as lonely and isolated in his life as he did now.

After a few hours of travel, the group stopped to rest. Siegfried distanced himself from the others. He heard footsteps approaching, and assumed it would be the compassionate Sophitia seeking to console him - but instead, he heard Taki's voice accusing him of dishonesty.

"What is the true reason that Tira left?"

Siegfried knew he could not hide anything from Taki. She was too clever for that. He also knew that she appreciated brevity, and so he was concise.

"I am certain that Tira has abandoned me and now seeks to serve Nightmare."

"How certain?"

"I've never been so afraid - and so convinced - of anything else."

"The next time we meet Tira, she may be our enemy."

"It is possible."

"Are you prepared?"

"I may have to rely on someone else to strike her down."

"Then I will take her life for you, if it comes to that."

"Thank you. Please don't tell the others about this."

"They should be aware of all possible threats."

"...Then tell them that Nightmare may corrupt Tira and turn her against us. Don't tell them that Tira's betrayal is by choice."

"Very well. I understand that you may be going through a great deal of emotional suffering. If you doubt your ability to lead us in your condition, then please assign the role to someone else."

"I think I can manage. I will control my feelings. If it does become necessary, I will call upon you to guide us in my stead."

"You have proven your competency in the past. I trust you, Schtauffen."

With that, Taki left Siegfried to his thoughts.

---

Everything was coming back to her.

How long had it been since Tira had met anyone who could keep up with her as she flew through the trees? How many hundreds of nights had passed since the last time she had embarked on a mission to take a man's life, surrounded by living instruments of death?

In the darkness of night, Tira could only catch brief glimpses of the ravens flying through the trees alongside her. This sight brought back the memory of her past allies flitting across tree branches beside her, a flock of murderers darting toward their unlucky prey.

She had never forgotten this sensation. She did not allow herself to yearn for it, refusing to desire anything besides her Master's approval and appreciation, but she had never forgotten how it felt to fly through the canopy of a forest like this, surrounded by her partners, eagerly advancing upon her victim.

The experience opened a floodgate in Tira's mind that submerged her in ancient memories. Faces of old masters and associates from the Bird of Passage flickered through her mind, as did previous assassinations and the many gruesome ways she had sent her targets to their deaths. She had not felt this in so long, choosing to trade nights of death for nights of passion. As she swung and leapt and fluttered through the forest, Tira had a difficult time deciding which of the two experiences was more exhilarating.

Her voyage came to a sudden halt as she reached the edge of the forest. She clasped a tree branch, swung around it in a somersault to kill her momentum, and dropped down to the ground. Only once she had come to a stop did she realize how exhausted she had become; while still nimble, her body had atrophied, and she was no longer as athletic as she had once been. She had exercised and trained her body while in Siegfried's employ - sometimes nude and standing before him - but rarely had the chance to practice leaping from one perch to another at high speeds.

Tira now stood at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a castle. The stronghold almost seemed to cast an ominous shadow over the land around it, a sinister and threatening aura that stretched for miles, encompassing several villages and even a small nearby city. Such gloom and boding evil meant that Tira had found her destination, and her lips curled into a grim smile.

However, it would not be as simple as running into the castle and slaying its lord. When she was still young and naïve, Tira had come close to death many times because she had neglected to learn about her target before attempting to kill him. Preparation was the key to a successful murder; if Tira knew her target's weaknesses and when he was the most vulnerable, then his death was ensured. To be ignorant of any detail could potentially ruin the mission. All must go exactly according to plan; Tira could not allow an unexpected twist to ruin her debut mission for her new Master.

And so the investigation began. Tira extended her arm, and within moments a Watcher perched upon it. She did not need words to convey her intentions to the creature; the moment Nightmare had bequeathed the birds to her, Tira had felt them form a nearly psychic bond with her. Their eyes met for a moment, and Tira knew the bird was aware of her objectives. The Watcher bowed its head to her in understanding, and she rewarded its cooperation with a kiss. With a subtle nod toward the castle, Tira thrust her arm out and sent the bird on its way. She took a step forward and began skidding down the side of the cliff, toward the city below.

The formula of the Bird of Passage was still clear in her mind: Spy on the target. Learn his daily routine. Learn when he is vulnerable. Eavesdrop on him and his subjects. Learn his weaknesses. Interrogate anyone who has the slightest chance of knowing something useful. Kill them afterwards. Don't leave a trace of your presence. Kill all witnesses. When the time is right, converge with the flock and share all information.

It was just like old times.

It was beautiful.

---

Raphael Sorel was a secretive man. Reclusive, nearly a hermit, he remained in his castle almost perpetually. He did not employ servants or guards, as he was a self-sufficient man who preferred his isolation.

The only recent instance in which he had emerged from his castle occurred a day prior to Tira's arrival. Upon hearing that a holy object had entered the vicinity, Raphael had ventured out of his stronghold to investigate it. Witnesses reported that, upon touching the item his skin became blistered and burned. The Frenchman destroyed the object in a fit of rage, and hastily took his leave.

The man was imbued with darkness and evil; his weakness was obvious. Regrettably, Tira did not have any holy relics at hand. Her new Master had generously given her seven days to eliminate Raphael, but there was no guarantee that Tira could acquire a suitably divine weapon with the time that remained to her.

Tira's new Master possessed supernatural strength and enough power to slay an army, yet Raphael had managed to defeat him. Not only this, but the sheer amount of evil force within Sorel's body was enough to influence and contaminate the land for miles around.

He was superhuman, vulnerable only to a force that Tira did not possess, and too reclusive to provide Tira with adequate knowledge to give her an advantage. The results of her investigation were disappointing, but she could not have done better. It seemed unlikely that she would succeed at killing Raphael. However, Tira was even more afraid of disappointing her Master than she was afraid of her own death. She would not turn back.

And that is how Tira came to be perched a windowsill on the side of Raphael's castle.

The Watchers were among her, but would not join her in the fight. Tira did not wish to endanger her Master's gifts to her, and it was necessary for her to prove her worth without using the birds as a crutch. She had allowed the winged servants to lead her to Raphael's location as she scaled the castle wall, but it was here that she parted ways with them.

There was a curtain drawn over the window that Tira now leaned against, but the window to her left allowed a clear view outside - or, from her perspective, inside. Tira leaned over and tilted her head to peer discreetly through the glass.

The room was an enormous library, its walls lined with books. The window led to a large interior balcony overlooking the rest of the room. The room was illuminated by abundant candlelight; there would be no opportunity for hiding among shadow. A single chandelier hung over the scene, crystals illuminated and showing reflections of every part the room.

The room was still - except for the movement of reflections in the chandelier, exposing the presence of Raphael.

Her target ascended the stairs to the balcony, and began to scan the rows of books that lined the walls. Raphael was tall, with unnaturally pale skin and blood red eyes comparable to that of her Watchers. Despite being alone, he had dressed himself formally, in an elegant green-and-red ensemble with a flowing, two-tailed cape. To Tira's surprise, he wore plates of armor on his chest and shoulders, and armored gloves that ended in clawed fingertips. More concerning was that a rapier adorned the man's side. Had she blundered? Was he aware of her presence - coming for her now?

Apparently, this attire was only another branch of the man's eccentricity, as he did not seem to acknowledge her presence, and proceeded to examine a bookshelf.

If the man carried armor and a weapon as a precaution, he was always prepared for an attack, and so Tira would not be able to ambush him. If the man was equipped because he expected her, then that also killed any chance of a surprise attack. Her assault would have to come now or never. Tira spared no time.

Tira climbed up above the window leading into the library, gripped the top of the windowpane, performed a handstand, and then swung her body down with as much force as she could muster. She slammed through the window feet first, and landed on the balcony inside.

Raphael reacted immediately without any sign of shock or surprise, drawing his rapier and performing a thrust. Tira swung her ringblade to knock the sword aside, and then swung it again to parry a second stab. Raphael stepped back to thrust forward, but suddenly stopped.

"Who are you? I thought those buzzards belonged to Nightmare."

Tira winced as she realized that her Watchers had given her away. She should have known that Raphael would recognize them - they were a hallmark of her Master.

Tira didn't bother responding to Raphael, and simply continued her attack.

Raphael's combat style was unique, and, in some respects, similar to Tira's. His attacks were graceful and acrobatic like hers, although he attacked with needless flair and flamboyance. Raphael was fond of spinning around unnecessarily as if to show off, and a few times he quite literally seemed to dance in place before attacking. Either the lavishness of his fighting technique was just another quirk of his, or he did not see Tira as an opponent who deserved to be taken seriously. Either way, his odd behavior irritated Tira, who did not show him mercy as she ruthlessly swung her blade at him, aiming exclusively for fatal blows.

Tira's constant assault kept Raphael defensive and unable to counter-attack. Raphael attempted to turn the battle around by parrying and countering, but failed in his attempt, leaving himself open. To undo this error, he quickly moved backwards to put space between himself and his foe, only to slam against the wooden rail of the balcony.

Raphael was cornered, and Tira seized her chance. She smashed her ringblade down into the floor, then swung her lithe form through the hoop and slammed both feet into Raphael's chest. The impact easily forced the wooden railing to break, and sent Raphael plummeting over the edge.

Tira was quick to follow him, leaping over the balcony no sooner than he'd fallen off of it. She fell toward him with her ringblade around her body, aiming to land on top of him and slice the Frenchman in two.

Raphael rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding her deadly landing. He rose to his feet, twisting the rapier in his hand so as to use a different technique against her.

"Such ferocity." Raphael noted. "I won't show you any mercy. I'll stab your heart - if there is one for me to find."

Tira smirked, not did not reply. Raphael bounded forth and delivered a flurry of wild stabs, a completely different style than his previous technique. Tira parried each assault as best she could and prepared to cut, only for Raphael to twist himself out of the way and slash, cutting into her right arm and leaving a deep gash.

Tira hissed and then swung her ringblade in wide arc. Raphael blocked the strike with his rapier, but the force was sufficient to knock him back, and allow Tira to pursue him, leaping up and kicking him with her right leg and bringing him to the floor. Tira swung the ringblade over her shoulder, ready to slice down and cut his neck only for Raphael to roll out of the way and evade her blade a second time.

Raphael quickly leapt back up to his feet and launched another hail of stabs and thrusts, filling the air with the sound of his blade clanging against Tira's. Tira sneered and drew back to try a less angular attack. She extended left to grip the ringblade, spinning it around and along her wrist, creating a sort of barrier between herself and Raphael as she approached him, attempting to corner the man.

Raphael instead drew away and moved to her left, tilting his arm over his head so as to slash at Tira's unprotected flank from an unexpected angle. She slid the ringblade from her wrist to her arm to block the attack. Raphael aimed a thrust at her neck, but Tira ducked down, losing only a few strands of hair to his rapier's blade.

Tira swung her legs out, tripping Raphael and knocking him over again. She quickly returned to a standing position, and swung the ringblade down at his neck again, only for Raphael to grip his rapier with both hands and position it so as to block her strike. Even pinned down, she couldn't cut into him.

Raphael gave a low growl and shoved his rapier forward with enough force to bring himself back to his feet, and knock Tira off of him. He began another rapid succession of thrusts.

Tira scowled. This man was too systematic, too formulaic - his attacks were repetitive and monotonous. There was nothing fun about this fight - it was boring, repeating the same cycle time and again. She usually enjoyed fighting, but this man brought her no joy - only irritation.

As Raphael was in the process of a stab, Tira lunged and slashed. The ringblade cut through his armor and sliced his chest, and his rapier was turned away from a course that would have sent it through Tira's heart and lung. Raphael staggered backwards, trying to remain upright, but fell to the ground, landing hard on his back.

Tira reacted quickly and stomped a foot down on his rapier's blade, depriving him of a weapon - or so she thought. Raphael's free hand lashed out and gripped Tira's leg, and the blades on his clawed glove sliced down into her leg. Tira screamed in pain, then swung his ringblade down at his chest. Tira felt warmth as Raphael's blood splattered upon her body, then felt Raphael's grip on her leg go slack. She stumbled back, and fell to the ground, the wound in her leg causing her too much pain to stand.

Tira moaned in pain through gritted teeth, clutching her leg with both hands. Fear pulsed through her body with each beat of her heart. She was almost too afraid to take her hands off the wound to see how bad it was. The pain was so sharp - for all she knew, her leg was mutilated and disfigured. What if she couldn't run anymore? What if she couldn't even walk anymore? Was it this? Was this the end? Was it all over so quickly? No more fighting? No more killing? How could she serve her Master like this? If she had never left Siegfried then this never would have -

Tira gave herself a mental slap in the face. She would not allow that line of thinking to go any further.

Tira looked up, took a deep breath, let go of her leg, and looked down. Five wide gashes raked across her skin, but the cuts were not deep enough to cause permanent damage. She would fight again. She would serve her Master again.

Tira leaned back and sighed. She hoisted herself up, and limped over to a flight of stairs. She sat down on the steps to catch her breath and recuperate for a while. She might have to spend the night here before leaving. She should also check the castle for medical supplies to prevent her wounds from scarring. But, if she spent the night, would she still have enough time to return to her Master before the week was through? There was also the matter of bringing back proof of the murder. Raphael severed head would probably -

"...Papa Raphael?"

Tira's hand flew to her ringblade at the sound of a voice, and then relaxed when she considered the words. _...Papa?_

A figure walked softly into the room - a young, orange-haired girl who couldn't have been more than 14 years old at the most. She was slender and clothed in the same elegant manner as Raphael, wearing an exceptionally feminine purple dress adorned with roses and white frills. Timidly, nervously, she held a rapier with both hands - a weapon that looked too long and heavy for her thin frame. She held it as though it would grant her safety and security, not as thought she knew how to properly wield it.

Tira nearly scoffed. She had seen such beautiful, decorated girls many times before - spoiled, misguided brats, who only knew the life of a privileged noble. Giddy socialites who thought the world was about parties and gossip and courting. They didn't care that the less fortunate would never know such prosperity, didn't care that the less fortunate would have to struggle just to get by. _Here she comes in her beautiful purple dress to see her beloved papa, clutching that sword as if it were a doll, oblivious to the nature of the real world, oblivious to the reality of death and bloodshed and mutilation._

However, the girl did not exhibit the behavior that Tira would have expected. She was emotionless, with a doll-like face devoid of expression. She moved slowly, almost lethargically - not as though she was tired, but as though she had no inspiration, no drive or motivation. She seemed like a girl who was sad and forlorn, suffering, almost tortured.

But all that changed the moment she beheld Raphael. The instant she saw him lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her exquisite and flawless face became with worry. "...P-Papa?" She asked, trembling.

The girl didn't even bother to scan the room - she took a few steps forward, then cast her rapier to the ground and dashed to Raphael. She knelt beside him and began shaking the lifeless man's body. She spoke to him in a voice that was urgent, yet as soft and gentle as a whisper.

"Papa! What happened to you? Papa, please say something!" She continued to shake Raphael's body futilely, out of either naïveté or denial. Finally, she accepted the truth, and lowered her head, sobbing. "Who did this? Why?" The girl who had once been so serene and solemn had dropped her impassive front. She entered a state of severe emotional distress, sobbing uncontrollably over Raphael's body.

Tira watched the scene with apathy. It was not the first time that she had seen a child or wife cry over the corpse of her latest victim. She had widowed women and orphaned children for over a decade - in fact, until she had met Siegfried, she had never known any other existence. She could feel no guilt. This scene was too normal to her.

The only thing that mattered was completing the mission, no matter who had to die along the way. As long as Tira completed the mission, she was valuable. As long as she obeyed orders, she had worth. As long as she satisfied her Master, she fulfilled her purpose. By killing others, she gave meaning to her life. She never thought about the side effects.

As she watched the girl cry over Raphael, Tira didn't feel anything at all.

Tira stood up, and began limping out of the room. The girl looked up, saw her, gasped, and then scrambled away from Raphael's corpse. The girl snatched her fallen rapier from the ground, then raised it and pointed it at Tira. The look on the girl's doll-like face was one of pure loathing - absolute and total hatred.

"...Are you serious?" Tira mumbled.

The girl slipped into a combat stance - the exact same posture that Tira had seen Raphael use while fighting her. Tira arched an eyebrow.

"...What did he ever do to you?" The girl asked, trembling and stuttering. Tira rolled her eyes.

"Out of my way. I'm too tired to fight." Tira muttered.

"Why did you kill him?" The girl begged, choking back tears.

"Master told me to kill him. Now listen - I'm not in the mood to fight, but I have no problem with killing you if you get in my way. Move aside now."

"NO!" The girl shouted with more conviction than Tira would have thought could occupy such a timid girl. "I won't let you get away with this!"

The girl lunged, and thrust the rapier at Tira's neck. Tira was amused. She instinctively sidestepped and parried the blow with her ringblade, but stumbled halfway through the motion as a sharp pain shot up her right leg.

"Dammit..." Tira spat. Her wounded state did not cripple her, but drastically reduced her mobility and energy.

The girl attacked Tira several more times - clumsy versions of Raphael's signature moves. Tira scoffed at each blow, knocking it aside with her ringblade. When Amy tried to emulate Raphael's rapid succession of thrusts, Tira became irritated and swung her ringblade hard enough to knock the rapier from the weak girl's grip.

"Oh just STOP already!" Tira barked. "I'm wounded and you STILL can't land a single blow. Do you honestly think you can kill me? You're lucky it hurts to even THINK right now or else I would have killed you the moment you stepped in the room."

Amy trembled.

"Move aside." Tira growled.

Amy did not move. Instead, she dropped to the ground and sobbed loudly. Tira looked away and clicked her tongue in frustration. Then, she turned back to the girl.

"Tell me your name."

The girl looked up at Tira with teary eyes. "...Amy." She whimpered.

"Amy," Tira said, "you have lost everything you know and love this day, correct?"

Amy nodded.

"I cannot offer you any comfort or consolation. Even in better times, I could not care for you. Such things are not in me. I kill. It is all I am capable of. I cannot ease your mind with sweet lies, only share what is true. Should you live to be one hundred, you will never be able to do anything to bring back those who have died. Child, your Papa is never coming back. Ever. He does not 'live in your heart' and he is not 'hiding' from you; he is gone. He cannot come to you, but one day you will surely go to where he is."

Tira sighed. It was not like her to say such things - perhaps her time with Siegfried and the others had changed her.

"There are two choices before you now. You can enter the care of strangers who will try raise you and care for you, who will try to replace your Papa but fail, who will finally release you into the world to live your own life. Then, someday in the future, when you are old and full of years, you will go to your true parents. However, if you wish it, you may go to see Raphael this very day, but to do so, you will forfeit this life forever, and never be able to return. These are your choices. What would you have me do?"

Amy looked down at the bloodstained floor.

"How can I go to Raphael?" She asked.

Tira raised her ringblade high, and prepared to swing it down at the girl's neck.

"...How can I go to him now, when the one who killed him is still alive? I could not face him now." Tira heard vengeance in Amy's voice that she knew was only a small taste of how the girl truly felt. Tira could almost feel the intense hatred radiating from the petite girl.

Tira smiled, and lowered her ringblade.

"I choose to kill you." Amy said, looking up at Tira. "I choose to hunt you down and make you pay for what you've done."

Tira would have applauded, if she had not been so fatigued. "It's only fair, after all - you deserve a chance to avenge your Papa Raphael." She slung her ringblade over her shoulder. "My name is Tira. I am a slave. I serve Master Nightmare. You will not be ready to extract your revenge upon me for many years. Know that when you eventually come for me, I will show you no mercy. Leave this room and never return to it, for now it is necessary that I remove your Papa's head from his body."

Amy recoiled in shock, then glared at Tira with the darkest, most hatefully loathing eyes that Tira had ever beheld. Amy slowly rose to her feet, collected her Papa's rapier and her own, and left the room.


	48. Orphaned Rose

Most of Amy's childhood was spent in hiding.

She hid because she was afraid. She was afraid of everything in the world. The world was a cold, dark, dirty place, full of danger and men that wanted to hurt her.

Men were selfish, shameless creatures, taller than her and stronger than her, always leering at her body. Sometimes they were friendly to her, but the moment she let her guard down they'd start to touch her in ways she didn't want them to. She didn't understand why they wanted to do such strange things to her. She would have tolerated it, but they were rough and forceful and it hurt.

It made her too uncomfortable to stay with them, even if they said they'd give her food and shelter in exchange. Even on nights when she was so hungry her stomach felt as though it was on fire, and even on nights when she was so cold she couldn't tell if she was alive or dead anymore, she wouldn't put herself into the care of those men. It was unbearable.

She was lucky if she encountered a man who tried to use words to coax her into his bed, because most of them just used their size and strength, instead. She had a knife that she used sometimes for killing rodents. She didn't enjoy it; when she was too weak or tired to steal food, she'd be left with no choice but to eat the creatures that she often slept among. She felt sorry for the mice that she killed. They hadn't done anything wrong to her, they hadn't done anything to deserve their death...nut she didn't feel any guilt when she had to cut a man that was trying to drag her somewhere. Sometimes, cutting those men almost made her feel happy.

_Almost_ made her happy. There wasn't any room for happiness in her life. There was only hiding. She had to hide because it kept her away from men. She couldn't hide outside of the town, because there were wild dogs out there. Dogs were like men, except they were smaller, had more hair, walked on four legs, and were slightly more vicious. She had to stay in the town. There was nowhere else to go.

Aside from men and dogs and the rodents brave or hungry enough to attack her, there was something else she had to hide from. Disease. Disease was the scariest thing in the world, even more frightening than what men did to her. She'd never seen disease, because it was invisible, but she'd seen it kill hundreds of people, starting with her parents. It was impossible to know where it was until people started getting sick and dying. That's when Amy knew she couldn't hide in that part of town anymore, and had to go somewhere else.

She found a good hiding spot, a place where nobody went because it was too dark and cold and smelly and wet and full of rats, and then she slept. When she was awake, she waited. She waited until the pain in her stomach was unbearable, and then she left her hiding spot and found a place to steal food from. As long as she avoided vendors she had already robbed and planned her escape route carefully, her face would not be recognized and she would get away with whatever she had snatched up before being noticed.

She had been caught and whipped in the past, but it was always worth a try. She'd endure a whipping every day if it was the price she had to pay to fill her stomach.

Amy knew she wasn't the only person in the world who suffered like this. There were other orphans, too. She'd learned how to hide and rob and escape by watching them. A few times she had made friends, but they were just as hungry as she was, and just as greedy as men; she'd woken up to find all of her food and belongings stolen by other children who needed them just as bad as she did. She couldn't trust anyone - not adults, not even others like herself. She was alone in the world.

Until she met him.

To this day, it still astounded her that such a simple act had granted her so much. She was lucky; fortunate to have been at the right place at the right time. If she had left her hiding place a minute sooner or later, she would have never encountered the man. But she had been fortunate enough to run into him, and she would be grateful for that for the rest of her life.

The man stood out to her for two reasons. He was clothed from head to toe in extravagant, flamboyant clothing, garbs that were not worn by the peasants. He wore the clothing of nobles, godlike beings that she had only glimpsed a few times previously. Such divine creatures had no reason to trudge through the filthy streets that she walked.

The other reason that the man was remarkable to him was because he was running. He was running for his life, with a look of terror in his eyes, his face twisted in horror. He ran through the streets, pushing aside any who were in his way, as though hell itself were at his heels. When he drew near, Amy braced herself to be knocked down as well - but the man avoided striking her, and then agilely slipped through a crack in a wooden fence and slunk into a crevice between the fence and the side of a building, perfectly hidden and unseen to all in the world - but Amy.

Amy tilted her head quizzically to the side and stared at the man in fascination and puzzlement. He was a noble - he was in this filthy, diseased town - he was running from something capable of striking fear into a man such as himself - he was hiding like a rat, like a thieving orphan...hiding like her.

The man's eyes - intense, passionate, piercing eyes - were locked onto Amy's. The man was completely silent, save for his heavy, exhausted breaths. He watched Amy with an expression she had never been regarded with before - fear. He was worried, afraid of Amy for some reason - but why? What reason could he have to fear her?

Amy heard a stampede of footsteps coming her way. She turned to see a group of men in uniform - soldiers. Her eyes subconsciously narrowed when she saw them. She'd watched men wearing those uniforms mistreat the people of her town - they beat men for petty reasons, abused women as she had been abused, kicked animals who blocked their way, and took food from vendors without paying not because they were hungry, but simply because they could.

The crowd of soldiers came to a stop near Amy, their heads whipping from left to right in search of something. "You! Girl!" One of the soldiers barked. "Did you see a man in fair clothing come running this way!?"

Amy did not wish to assist these men, but the soldier's harsh tone forced her to answer truthfully out of fear. She nodded.

"Which way did he go?!" The soldier demanded.

For a moment, Amy's eyes rolled toward the hiding place where she had seen the man go. But she had no reason to reveal his location. If he was an enemy of the soldiers, he was no enemy to her. And she would die before giving any form of help to such cruel men.

Amy looked down, and raised her right arm. She pointed down an alley to the left - opposite of the man hiding a few feet away from her.

The soldiers dashed down the alley immediately, their armored boots clanking on the cobblestone ground and then fading away as they vanished off into the town. For a moment, Amy's lips curled into a tiny smile. It felt good to deceive those men. Although she had lied, she felt that justice had been done.

Amy turned once again to look toward the man whom was hiding behind her. His eyes were wide, his mouth partially open. Such a startled, bewildered expression didn't seem to suit him.

"...you saved me." He murmured.

Amy didn't respond. She didn't know what to say. The man was right, she had saved him. But what of it? It had been an exhilarating moment, yes, but that was all it had been to her. To this man, however, her gesture had apparently been much more.

"I am safe now. My gratitude is yours. You have my thanks." The man whispered.

Amy felt her cheeks become warm. No one - man or woman, adult or child - had ever spoken to her like that...thanked her, shown her appreciation. She was sure that others heard words of thanks several times a day - but she had never heard gratitude.

"Those soldiers have orders to kill me. I would be dead right now without your assistance. You've saved my life. What is your name?"

Amy blinked, swallowed, put her arms around herself nervously.

"...Amy."

"Amy...I wouldn't be alive if it were not for you. I owe you my life, Amy."

Amy was silent. She didn't know what to do, what to say. She'd never been spoken to with such respect, been treated as though she was of value...genuinely.

"I must repay you. Tell me what you want in return. I'll give you anything." The man said. His tone of voice was anxious - he was begging , pleading to repay her, as though his life depended on it. Perhaps that was exactly how he felt.

Amy was in shock. A moment ago, she'd had nothing - now, this man promised her anything? She did not know what to say. Not know what to ask for. She spent every hour of every day wishing she had more than she did - but now that the opportunity was before her, she was without words. She was not used to this, not accustomed to receiving so much consideration.

"...Why?" She asked breathlessly. "Why do you owe me anything?"

The man gritted his teeth - but not in anger. He seemed to be ashamed, humiliated.

"...I do not like owing my life to another person." He said. "I do not like being aware that my existence is dependant on the action of someone else. I live for myself. I rely on myself. And now, I owe you a debt as great as my life. Tell me what I must do to repay you, so that I will not live with such a burden. ...But let's not talk here. If the guards can't find me, they'll come back here. Is there somewhere nearby here where we will not be seen?"

This man was asking her to be alone with him - and yet, she was not afraid. She trusted him. No - she did not completely trust him yet, but she _wanted_ to trust him. She'd never heard such genuine appreciation in a man's voice before, never felt as though she could believe a man's words, never felt as though she would be safe in a man's presence.

Amy knew of a hiding spot nearby where she and the man would be safe.

"...Follow me."

--

His name was Raphael, and Amy told him everything.

As the two of them sat together in a small, cramped alcove, Amy told Raphael about her life. She told him about the conditions that she lived in, the food she ate, the reasons why she had to hide from men. It was the most she had ever spoken since her parents had died, and the only time she had ever spoken about herself to another person.

Raphael sat and listened in rapt silence, engrossed and captivated and disgusted by her every word. When she was finished, the two of them sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then, Raphael told Amy about himself and his plight - he did not tell her about the luxury in which he had lived, but he told her why his life was in danger, why he had to flee the town, the country altogether.

"You're coming with me." Raphael said.

Amy did not understand.

"No one deserves to live this way. No one should ever be forced to endure an existence such as yours. My life was over, and you granted me extra time. I will give you a new life, as well - a better life than this. From now on, I will take care of you."

Before the day was through, Raphael brought Amy refined clothing to replace the torn, stained, smelly clothes she had worn for years. He brought her succulent food she had never even dreamed of tasting before. He promised that every day she would wear such clothing and eat such food - and Raphael made good on his word.

After the two of them had escaped the diseased town, Raphael secured lodging for the two of them in the countryside. They lived in a town where the people were pleasant and life was easy. Amy did not need to hide from anyone, she did not need to fear rape or disease, she did not need to steal to have food, and she did not need to sleep among rodents and filth.

And yet, she was not happy.

She could not set aside the instincts that she had developed during her short life. Many things had become second nature for her during her life in the slums, and her lifelong habits did not fade. She felt uncomfortable and unnatural in her new clothing, she scanned her surroundings for hiding places and escape routes with every step she took, and she could never get used to holding money or handing it to anyone in exchange for food. Although she knew it was the proper, civilized way of life, she had never known such behavior, and never adapted to it.

Her fear of men lingered. She could not stand to give money to a male vendor, for that meant coming close enough to him to be grabbed. It was second nature for her to hide whenever a man was in sight, and she hid behind Raphael whenever she saw one approach. Raphael was the only exception - he wasn't a man to her - he was Raphael. He was her guardian, her friend, the one who had rescued her from the terrible life she'd had. Beside being her savior and caretaker, he was also the closest thing she had to a father. He told her that she was like a daughter to him - and from then on, she called him Papa, and the name filled her with joy every time she said it.

But although she had found someone she could live with, she still had difficulty living at all. She was paranoid, constantly afraid that every animal wanted to bite her, that every man wanted to touch her, that every cough or sniffle heralded the coming of disease. What's worse, she acknowledged her own paranoia, understood that normal people did not live this way - but was incapable of changing herself. She had lived too long this way, never known another form of life. She could never adapt. She was beyond recovery.

Amy had never known happiness, and so she did not have the capability to feel it. Raphael could not relate to Amy's suffering. Instead, he thought that he simply wasn't giving her enough. If she was unhappy, it must mean that the food wasn't good enough, the clothing wasn't fancy enough, their house wasn't big enough. He found another cook, another tailor, a larger house - but nothing ever made her happy. Not even when he and Amy lived within a mansion with their own cooking staff and private tailors did a smile ever grace Amy's demure face.

It was around this time that Raphael discovered the threat of Soul Edge, and embarked to destroy it. He was slain by Nightmare, but kept alive - or simply undead - by evil energy that had taken residence in his body.

When he returned to Amy, he inadvertently infected her with the same affliction that cursed him.

Amy was gripped with fear, terrified that both she and Raphael would suffer the fate of her parents, killed by this infectious ailment that had consumed them both. But Raphael reassured her, comforted her, told her that everything would be fine. She believed him, unaware that his plan was to infect the world with the same evil disease that blighted them.

Amy did not know that Raphael had gone mad. He still cared for her, pampered her, spoiled her, coddled her, gave her the love and affection that no one else had ever given her. Whatever his physical or mental state, he was still the same loving, caring, tender man that had cared for her since she had rescued him.

Until now. Until his death.

_Leave this room and never return to it, for now it is necessary that I remove your Papa's head from his body._

After the green-clad intruder had bested her in combat, Amy had confined herself to her room. There was no point in fighting the woman, since she had already defeated her and her father. In the past, just the thought of her beloved Raphael being injured would bring her emotional distress - the sight of his dead body and the knowledge that he was now nothing more than a corpse had turned her into a wailing, sobbing mess.

To say that Amy was devastated would be an understatement. Raphael was the most important person in her life - the ONLY person in her life - the man who had saved her from the worst existence imaginable, given her everything she had ever dreamed of having. Just a few hours ago, he had been alive, embracing her, caring for her - and now he was dead, gone forever, and she could do nothing about it. He had been murdered, she had failed to avenge him, and his shameless killer was free.

Amy cried for hours. She cursed Raphael's murderer using words she'd never spoken before, screamed at volumes she'd never reached before, felt despair that she had not experienced since her time as an orphan. She didn't know what her future would hold. Without Raphael, what was going to become of her? What kind of life was she going to have from now on? Would she have to steal for food now? Wear rags again? Go back to hiding from everything, everyone?

_Broken. My life is broken. Everything is broken._

--

The group could tell that something foul had polluted the city without ever stepping foot in it. The weather was fair beyond the city, but the sky directly above it was perpetually occupied by black clouds. The streets of the city were covered in a thick, dark fog that reached the rooftops. A feeling of doom and disaster radiated from the city, a sensation that could be felt from miles away.

The Soul Embrace reacted as the group drew near the city, the evil sword twitching and trembling as though it was about to break free from the holy sword's grasp. The group strongly wished to avoid the city, but they also felt compelled to investigate it and, if possible, rescue it from whatever wicked force had corrupted it.

In the evil fog emanating from the city, they could sense the aura of Soul Edge - the evil blade, a fragment of it, or a victim of its influence was responsible for contaminating this city at some point in the past. As they felt that it was their duty to rid the world of the sword, they also felt compelled to erase whatever stains the sword had left behind, as well.

Siegfried could also feel something familiar in the evil miasma that seeped outward from the city - a sensation that triggered memories of escaping Nightmare's control. In his many journeys he had often become reacquainted with previous foes and allies, and had found that such feelings of déjà vu were rarely coincidences.

The group felt that it might be wise to investigate the city, but feared for the safety of the Soul Embrace. They considered leaving the Embrace behind with their stronger warriors protecting it, but wondered if that was exactly the sort of opportunity that the likes of Zasalamel had been waiting for. Just as they had concluded that none of their options were satisfactory, they noticed that Soul Edge had ceased twitching. Turning their gaze to the city, they beheld a phenomenon that none of them had expected.

The city was transforming. The black clouds that covered the sky were parting, and moonlight was shining through with incredible radiance, as though to make up for lost time. The dark mist that blanketed the town was fading away, simply evaporating altogether. No longer did the group feel a sense of foreboding or death from the city.

The 'source' of the transformation - or rather, the part of the land that had recovered first - was the very epicenter of the city. In the exact center of the metropolis, there was a castle that had once been enshrouded almost entirely in shadow and darkness, but was now as clear and revitalized as the rest of the city. The areas furthest away from this castle were the least affected by whatever blight had consumed the land, and were also the last to be restored. Whether the source of evil had been stamped out, or a miracle had just occurred, the event must have occurred at that castle.

With the land once again safe, the bewildered group was now free to advance upon the city - but, as they were confused by this shocking turn of events, as well as apprehensive about the city altogether, they approached it cautiously, prepared to retreat at the first sign of negative impact to the Soul Embrace.

The group spent several hours investigating the phenomenon that had plagued the city. Not a single one of the city's inhabitants - disoriented and confused, every last one of them - was entirely sure of what had been happening to their fair land in the past months. They remembered a time of prosperity and tranquility, and then a slow decline in their quality of life. Their water became foul, their skies dark, their livestock sickly, their air rank, their moods horrid. In the beginning of the decline, not a day went by without violence, and later, it was murder that had become commonplace. The populace of the entire city seemed to become spiteful, and as each day passed, lying, cheating, and stealing became more routine than the day before. Even the most upright and noble of the population found themselves with blood on their hands, and the law was no longer upheld by those who had sworn to protect it.

And then, all at once, it had stopped. The violence and the spite, the crimes and the bloodshed, the rank atmosphere and attitude had dissolved almost immediately. It was as though time had been reversed, and the city had been transported back to the era when life was simple and easy and good. Not a single pair of lips was generating profanity, not a single hand was being used for harm, not a single misfortune was to be found across the entire city. The people were rejoicing, for although they did not understand what had happened to them, they knew that it was good. They knew that the time of pain and fear and fury and sorrow was at an end. They had performed horrific atrocities for the past several months, but the unseen power that had governed their cruel actions was gone, and they had returned to their former selves.

Siegfried felt a personal connection to each and every one of them. Controlled by an evil power - forced to commit terrible sins upon others - and then liberated, allowed to return to their true selves once more. It was the story of his life, imposed upon an entire city...the entire experience was surreal, unbelievable, and seemingly impossible, even to a group that had seen the most extraordinary and implausible events to ever take place.

And yet they still could not find a single soul who could explain what had happened.

Through their investigation, Siegfried and his companions were only able to discover one clue – an event that coincided with the city's 'curse'. Ever since a certain man had taken up residence in the castle nearby the city, things had gotten worse for the population, in terms of health, mood, and society. It would be silly to believe that correlation was causation - but there were no other hints available.

There was also a rumor that a traveler had brought a strange artifact into the city, a rock of sorts with divine properties. This 'Holy Stone' had reportedly cured all who touched it, and seared the hand of the man who had brought this evil curse to the land. Siegfried and his companions were accustomed to hearing about shards of metal causing harm - but never the reverse. This Holy Stone intrigued them, and, if it was capable of stopping the effects of a curse that reeked of Soul Edge's influence, it could quite possibly be an important point to investigate.

Siegfried and the others steeled themselves for further surprises, and began to advance on the castle.

--

Just like the old days, it was hunger that finally drew her out of her hiding spot. When Amy had spent so long in her room that she once again felt hunger that had not been in her life since her orphan days, she forced herself to leave and seek the kitchen.

Raphael had employed many people to operate his castle. There were guards to keep watch for intruders (who had obviously failed to do their job tonight), gardeners to keep the grounds in good shape, stone masons to repair failing architecture, hunters to procure the day's meal, a chef and cooking staff to cook what the hunters caught, groomers to keep Raphael and Amy looking presentable, doctor to keep everyone in good health, court magicians to entertain everyone, and much more. The castle was a well-oiled machine with a staff numbering in the dozens. Raphael seemed to have been reared with so much company around him at all times that he refused to live in isolation - either that, or he had been raised with so much unseen assistance that he was now incapable himself of performing such simple tasks as cooking and cleaning, and required someone else to do the job.

Amy considered the staff of her castle to be strangers, even the women who bathed her and clothed her and did her hair every morning. They lived in the same structure and saw one another every day, but she avoided them, only comfortable in the presence of Raphael. Amy did not look up to them as figures of authority. Running to them to announce the arrival of an assassin was the last thought to occur to her, especially when there was nothing the guards could do to stop the killer, whom was powerful enough to overtake Raphael himself. The assassin was long gone by now anyway - Amy decided that she should probably alert the castle's staff to the fact that her Papa was dead.

When she entered the main chamber of the castle, she could not inform the first person that she saw about Raphael. She was unable to, because the first person she saw was dead.

Everyone was dead. All of them. Every last person.

Every servant in the castle had been murdered.

Amy screamed when she saw the first body, shrieked when she saw the second, but when the number of bodies only continued to rise, she realized that shouting would do her no good. She ran from room to room, hoping to find someone, anyone who was still alive, knowing all the while that she would only find corpses, which is exactly what happened. When she lost count of how many dead people she had seen, she lost all hope that she would find another living soul. She dropped to her knees and began sobbing again. That assassin who'd killed Raphael was the only one who could have done this - but why? She'd entered every room and killed every living being in the castle, when only one death was necessary. Had she done it for fun? For sport? For no reason at all?

_She's not human...she's a monster...she's a demon..._

The only thing clouding her mind more than her grief and anguish was her hunger. Amy dragged herself to the kitchen, where she could only find raw and uncooked food. With no knowledge of how to prepare it, she just ate whatever looked edible, as cold and hard as it was.

Just as the aching in her belly had subsided, she heard something - banging on the door of the castle. For anyone to be at the door, they must have gotten past the gate. Did the guards let them through? Or were the guards at the gate dead as well?

Amy didn't know who it could be, but knew that she had to find someone. A murderer was on the loose, and who knows how many more lives she would take if she was not stopped. Even if it meant speaking to another person, Amy had to get word out about Raphael's death and his sadistic assassin.

Amy ran to the door, pulled aside the lock, and put all of her weight into pulling the door open. After several tries, she realized that her tiny, frail frame would never do the trick. Panting and gasping, she stepped back and called out, "It's open!"

The door swung open, revealing a tall man covered in armor so large that his frame filled the entirety of the doorway.

The man looked down at the tiny girl wheezing exhaustedly in front of him. She had cosmetics on her eyelashes and eyelids that were presently running down her face, making dark lines from her eyes to her chin that resembled black tears stains. The girl looked like a mess, physically and emotionally...and what was worse, he could sense the poison of Soul Edge within her. She was contaminated, tainted by the aura of that cursed blade.

"...We are looking for a man named Raphael Sorel." The man said.

"He's dead." Amy sighed in a voice as tiny and frail as she was. "Everyone in the castle but me is dead."

The man's alarm was obvious. His head whipped up, he caught a glimpse of the corpses littering the room, and he came further into the castle to get a better look. His head whipped from side to side as he surveyed the carnage in the main hall, and then returned his intense glare to Amy. "What happened?" He demanded gruffly. Amy winced and pulled back instinctively.

"Siegfried, have you no delicacy? The girl is obviously terrified!" said a female voice from behind the tall man who darkened the doorway.

Now it was 'Siegfried' who flinched and drew back. The other half of the door that composed the castle's entrance was pulled open, and Amy saw that the man was not alone.

There were women with him, six altogether. Amy was relieved. Five of the women rushed into the castle, each with a weapon drawn, looking all around for any sign of danger. A sixth stayed behind, kneeling by a large satchel bulging with something inside.

"The guards at the entrance were dead." The man said. "We sensed an aura of death from the castle. We knew we'd find some manner of tragedy within - but why? What happened here?"

"She killed everybody!" Amy blurted out. "First she killed Papa Raphael and then she killed everyone else for no reason! A demon with a circular blade and green clothing...she called herself 'Tira', and said she was a 'slave' who served 'Master Nightmare'."

Siegfried's spirits sunk immensely. The armor he wore suddenly felt a dozen times as heavy as it actually weighed. He nearly sunk to his knees. For the first time in many years, he felt tears coming to his eyes.

_Tira. Nightmare. No. It's true. He has returned. And now she belongs to him._

Siegfried was aware that his reaction would affect his standing. He had to respond as calmly as possible, or else it would appear that his emotions were going to rule his decision-making abilities.

He turned his head aside and clenched his fists. "I doubt she'll come back. She's lost to us now. What a waste. Too bad that it had to be this way." He muttered. The others thought that his resignation was genuine, and felt relief. They did not want to have to for their leader's stability.

"What do you mean?" Amy asked.

"The woman who killed your father was once our companion." Siegfried said. "We knew her well. She betrayed us. She is no longer our ally. It is likely that we will have to kill her."

Amy bolted upright, emotion filling her stain, doll-like face.

"No - I will be the one to kill her!" She said with an assertiveness that seemed uncharacteristic of her. "I must avenge Papa! No one else will take her life but me!"

"...Is that truly the life you choose for yourself?" Asked Siegfried. "A life of vengeance, fueled by hatred, obsessed with punishing another person?"

Amy swallowed with uneasiness before answering with certainty. "Yes! I choose that life!"

"Then your father is fortunate where you are not." The man said. "His suffering is over, while yours is just beginning. If, from this day forth, you choose to walk the path of combat and bloodshed for the rest of your life, I feel pity for you, girl."

Amy's dejection was visible. The others were taken aback by Siegfried's harsh words, but knew where his feelings were coming from. The days of his youth were spent hunting for the one who killed his father to extract vengeance...and it was this devotion to revenge that caused him to eventually take up the cursed blade and become Nightmare. He saw himself in the girl, and did not want her to walk the same path as he had once walked.

"I don't mean to be insensitive to the girl's feelings - but I think we ought to find out what we came here to learn." Said a gentle-looking woman with long blonde hair.

Another woman who looked similar to the one whom had just spoken knelt next to Amy. "The city around this castle was cursed for the past few months - and the curse was lifted earlier tonight. Do you have any idea what might have caused this?"

Amy's heart sank even more. "Papa's condition was cursing the city? The city is okay now because Papa is dead?"

Her responses were inquiries more than they were replies, but her words were clear.

"What was Raphael's condition?" Asked a woman who wore clothing from the East.

"Ever since he came back from his journey to find a weapon called Soul Edge, he had some kind of infliction...not a physical disease...something supernatural...something evil...like a curse..."

"I don't know how he could have survived that battle." Siegfried said. "He managed to perform one last blow after I thought he was defeated, but his body was dead as I left Ostrheinsburg...if he survived, it was not by natural means. An evil force could have been keeping him alive...the contamination of Soul Edge."

"And then it spread to the city..." Muttered a girl with a long bladed pole.

"...And then to the girl, as well." This voice came from a woman who had just entered - the woman whom had stayed outside with the large satchel. Her appearance startled Amy at first - she thought that the woman was covered from head to toe in blood, and then realized that she was just wearing a tight red suit.

The woman in red regarded Amy with uneasy eyes. "Can none of you see it? The aura around her?"

"I feel something, yes - something that reeks of Soul Edge." Siegfried confirmed. "But nothing tangible or visible."

"I can see it clearly...like a cloud that surrounds her body." Said the woman in red. "She suffers from the same 'curse' as her father. She's as contaminated by Soul Edge as Ivy is."

The only woman who had not spoken yet, a woman with shameless clothing and platinum hair, jerked her head toward Taki. "As bad as me...? Soul Edge runs through her veins as well?"

"Now it does. Even if she wasn't born with it, it's a part of her body now." The woman in red held out the satchel in her hands toward Amy. Immediately, the satchel sprung to life - it began squirming and writhing, and muffled sounds came from within.

Amy felt a bizarre sense of longing.

Taki swung the satchel over her shoulder and took a few steps back until the bag stopped wiggling. "I bet the sword would love her to hold it. I think she would be a perfect host body - no need to release any energy she couldn't handle, like what happened with Siegfried and the Evil Seed."

The man and his female cohorts started looking at Amy differently now - like she was dangerous. Amy became nervous and worried that they were going to attack her any minute now.

"Wh-what does this mean?" Amy asked timidly.

"It means you're a threat to us. You could awaken the sword by getting close enough to it, and become the next Nightmare if you touched the hilt!" Said the woman who had been addressed as 'Ivy'.

"The same is true of you, is it not?" Siegfried said. Ivy clicked her tongue and looked away. "It doesn't mean anything for you. You're no threat to us. You have no reason to go near the Embrace."

"But what is the Embrace? What cursed father? Why did that woman kill him? Who are you people?" Amy asked, her desperation growing by the moment.

The man and the women all exchanged glances. They began to converse with one another.

"Let's not waste time here. Tira was here only minutes ago. If we move fast enough, we can find her trail."

"Do we want to catch up with Tira? She's an enemy now, and she'd only lead us to Nightmare. We should avoid them both. We need to hurry, find more shards to purify, find more 'Holy Stones', and stay as far away as possible from anyone else like this girl here."

"At least we agree that we need leave this place without wasting any more time."

"But what about the girl?"

"What about her? She's none of our business."

"Don't be cruel! We can't just leave her here."

"She's of no importance to us."

"She's after Tira - or at least she thinks she is - and she's a viable host for Soul Edge. She's bound to be a liability somehow."

"What, then, do you propose we do about her?"

The group fell silent. Amy trembled in fear.

The woman with long blonde hair knelt down next to Amy. She made Amy feel comfortable, at ease. "What's your name?" She asked gently.

"...Amy."

The woman smiled. "That's a pretty name. Was Raphael your only parent?"

"...He wasn't my real father. He adopted me. My real parents are dead. Raphael was the only person in my life. I have no relatives. I'm an orphan again now..."

Sympathy became apparent from the more sentimental of the women present.

But Ivy was not showing empathy at all. "All over the world, more children are being orphaned every moment. It's a fact of life. It happens. Our goal isn't to adopt orphans, it's to end the threat of Soul Edge. We have no business taking care of this girl."

"She's no normal girl, though." Said the nice blonde woman. "We can't leave her unchecked, when she has an affliction that has proved to be contagious to both the land and the living."

"If we kept her with us, we might eventually suffer from the same curse." Ivy stated. "What's worse, she has some kind of effect on Soul Edge, and she'd be a perfect host. We can't afford to keep her around."

"I-it doesn't matter to me if I live as an orphan or travel with you...I'm going to find Tira!" Amy announced."

"And then what, get yourself killed?" Ivy retorted.

"...I...I'll get stronger." Amy asserted. "I'll get strong enough to stop her."

Siegfried raised his hand to his face. "This is where seekers of Soul Edge come from. This is exactly how it happens. The girl will wind up on a quest to find a godlike weapon to extract revenge and then all hell will break loose!" The man brought himself to Amy's height. "I will not let that happen. I will not let my tragedy repeat itself."

"But Tira - " Amy began.

"I'll take care of Tira - she was my responsibility long before she was yours." Siegfried said. "I'm to blame for her defection and everything that results from it. I'm the one who is charged with stopping her."

Amy began to cry.

"We're not bringing an emotional, delusional child with us." Ivy said.

"What else can we do?" The blonde woman asked. "If we leave her on her own, she could spread the curse of Soul Edge, or do something drastic for the sake of revenge. We have to keep her in our sight."

"What about her curse?" Ivy asked.

The woman in red stepped forward again. She reached into her belongings, and drew out several transparent crystals that glowed radiantly and almost seemed to emanate a heavenly hum. She held them out to Amy. "Hold these."

Amy gingerly cupped her hands and held them out. The woman in red dropped the crystals into her hands. They stung when they touched her skin.

"Ow! It hurts...how long do I have to hold them?" Amy asked.

"Just a moment longer." The woman in red raised the mysterious satchel in front of Amy. The satchel did not stir, as it had previously done.

"The purified shards are enough to nullify the influence of Soul Edge." The woman said, putting the satchel aside and then taking the shards back. "If she carries them on her person, she should be safe, and so should we."

The woman took the shards back from Amy, who noticed light burns on her hands. The others waited for her reaction. She dusted off her hands on her clothing, and did not let the pain show on her face.

The air was silent and still. No one could deny the reality of the situation; this frail little girl was all alone in the world with only one thing to drive her - revenge. Not only were her goals fueled by hate, but the taint of Soul Edge permeated throughout her very being, and that curse had recently proven to be contagious. Amy was a second Siegfried and a second Ivy, rolled up into one lost, emotional, adolescent girl.

"...well, it looks like she's coming with us, then." Conceded Ivy.

The group explained their cause to Amy, and introduced themselves in turn. A diverse group of warriors from exotic locales, each with a unique story, but a single goal to unite them as one. They were all so powerful, so experienced, so extraordinary - they were like something out of a fairy tale...although Amy's life hadn't exactly been normal to begin with.

Amy told them of herself, as well. She told them of the life she had lived before she had met Raphael, the simple gesture that changed her life forever, and what had become of her since then. Her story, as bizarre as it was, fit in just perfectly with the rest of the group's striking tales.

With formal introductions out of the way and with their causes firmly established, the group was ready to determine their next course of action.

"...M-my Papa." Amy said, still as shy as ever despite her lengthy self-exposition. "H-he's still up there. He has to be buried."

Siegfried had lost his father around Amy's age. Ivy, Taki, and Setsuka had been orphans raised by surrogate fathers. Seung Mi-na had parental issues of her own, and Sophitia and Cassandra were sentimental enough to feel sympathy for the girl. They all agreed to bury her father.

Amy led them up to Raphael's library, where he had been when he was ambushed and killed. She did not enter the room, for she could not stand to see the sight of her father's headless body. While the others occupied the library, she retrieved her and Raphael's rapiers from her room. Waiting outside of the library, she heard discussion from within.

"It is him, to be certain. I recognize the attire. This is the man who struck Nightmare down with his dying breath, liberating me. I owe much to this man. It is a shame what happened to him."

"I guess that must be why Nightmare sent Tira to kill him. Nightmare probably wanted this man dead for that..."

"The rumors have been circulating for a while now, but I still cannot believe it! How can Nightmare return?! The sword is with us!"

"Perhaps the soul of the blade is not with us."

"Then what was it that possessed Ivy in Japan?"

"If Nightmare truly has returned, then the soul of the sword is not here, but elsewhere. If the soul did not possess Ivy, then it was only the sword's mind-warping lust for blood, not the spirit of the blade itself."

The group exited the library like a funeral procession, carrying Raphael's body, draped in a cloth made from a curtain from the library. It was not the ceremony that Raphael deserved, but it was all he would get.

Raphael's body was carried out of the castle and into the cemetery adjacent to it, reserved for castle troops who died in combat. There were already a few caskets and open graves at the ready. Raphael was placed into a coffin, along with his rapier, and lowered into his final resting place. No one present knew him well enough to deliver a fitting eulogy, save for Amy, who was too emotional and soft-spoken to deliver such a speech. After a few moments of silence, he was buried, and his tombstone etched with his name, birth date, and the date of his death.

Amy knelt in front of her adoptive father's grave and wept. The others left her alone and discussed their future plans. Amy was still not finished grieving by the time they had come to a conclusion. When Ivy grew impatient, she approached the girl.

"The time for mourning is over now. We must go now."

"Papa doesn't deserve to be left lying here alone and forgotten...no one else knew Papa but me. I'm the only one left to grieve him."

"Do not waste your grief on the dead. While you bemoan he who is lost, you disregard she who caused this. If you are distracted by something as trivial as the dead, nothing more than nutrition for worms, what commitment do you have to your path?"

Amy winced, but wouldn't back down.

"If Papa wasn't dead, I wouldn't have any reason to seek revenge. I want the demon who did this to pay for what she's done, but I don't want to forget what was done. She stole Raphael's life from him, and destroyed my future. She'll die by my hand...but I cannot focus on her death alone."

"So quickly your fire burns out. Your words of anger and passion dissipate like a puff of smoke. You say you will take her life and then you put the task aside to mourn those who are unable to appreciate the gesture? Then let the inevitability of time take your revenge, and live the rest of your life in grief, girl. I begin to think you would rather join your father than hunt his murderer."

Amy was not privy to insults in English, only French. _May the devil take you_ was the literal definition of what she said to Ivy, and although the platinum-haired woman did not understand the words, Amy's intent was clear enough, and Ivy would not be spoken to in such a way. She backhanded the girl roughly across her face and she fell to the ground holding her cheek, an expression of shock, indignation, and fear on her face.

"Who are you, girl? Who are you that you curse me so? You are a despondent orphan who will only travel with us on the whim of our generosity. If you wish that whim to remain in my thoughts for a second longer, know that I demand obedience and respect without compromise. Reserve your hatred for she who deserves it and do not waste it on me. Should you ever address me with such contempt again, you will not have an opportunity to disrespect me a third time."

Ivy turned and left, leaving Amy sprawled atop her Papa's grave, shaking in fear as her mind processed the fact that for the first time in her life, a woman had harmed her.

The others did not approve of Ivy's brutal words, but knew that Amy would face far worse things than cruel words should she choose the path of the warrior. They waited for her response, waited to see if she would cross this final threshold, or learn from this experience that she did not wish such a life on herself. They watched as Amy stood up, brushed herself off, wiped the tears and make-up from her face, and then walked with composure toward the group.

She stood with symmetry and balance, a picture of stability. Siegfried noted that she was even better at disguising her emotions than he was.

"I'm ready." She said in a voice that lacked the uncertain, timid tone that had characterized her until now.

With this statement, the group left the castle and began to walk away from it in silence.

They all expected the prim, proper, pampered girl to start complaining about something or another, but as the miles went by, she did not speak a word.

Perhaps it was a courtesy that was silently demanded by the solemn members of the group.

Perhaps it was the acceptance of the fact that she would never see Raphael again as long as she lived.

Or perhaps it was the slow realization of what was to become of her.


	49. Reflection

The development of Nightmare's consciousness was a process that had lasted centuries.

As the sword was used to shed blood across countless battlefields for countless years, it was bathed in death, drenched in murder, soaked in slaughter. The remorse, suffering, and pain of its thousands of victims clung to the blade, and built up over the course of its long history, until the sword itself was enshrouded by an aura of evil. Any who touched the blade's hilt would feel a desire to swing it, to carve flesh, to draw blood. The bloodier the blade became, the more its wielder craved blood.

The sword continued to retain emotional and physical residue from its victims, and eventually spiritual residue as well. Eventually, not only did blood and hatred cling to the sword's blade, but souls too. Flesh adhered to the sword and became one with it, and the sword became alive. Although the blade now 'lived', it was nothing but a beast, an animal with a thirst for blood and a bizarre influence over the man holding it. As it continued to develop into a living, abominable monstrosity, it became a more effective weapon in combat. The more men it slaughtered, the more efficiently it consumed its next victims. At the height of its use, the blade consumed hundreds of men per day, but even then, it took centuries until an actual consciousness began to develop inside of the blade.

As flesh and souls alike built up on the sword, it became a more complex creature, capable of comprehending the world around it, observing the location of others relative to itself. It discerned the most efficient routes between itself and its next meals, using its grim influence to override its host's decisions to make more prudent choices instead. The intelligence of the sword developed over time until it grew sophisticated enough to analyze situations and use logic and previous experience to determine the best course of action.

And yet, for all its psychological development, the sword never developed emotions or a conscience. It was like a machine that performed one task perpetually, an insatiable beast that sought only its next meal. It was simply an intelligent beast, one capable of rational thought, a thinking creature that was bereft of emotions or mercy - and that made it the most dangerous kind of monster.

The only emotions that Nightmare had ever known were satisfaction, desire, and rage. He desired souls, was satisfied when he consumed them, and was enraged when something stood in his way.

When Nightmare heard the meaty thump of Raphael's head striking to the ground behind him, he felt satisfaction. He was pleased with the elimination of one of his only obstacles, and felt a new sensation - appreciation - for the servant whom had completed this task. The words "Well done, Slave." emanated from Nightmare's helmet as though he had manipulated a vocal chord, tongue, and lips to speak them, but he simply created the sounds through the power of his will.

Tira took a long, deep bow before returning to an upright position, ready and willing and eager to hear and obey Nightmare's next command.

If Nightmare had lips to curl into a smirk, he would have done so. No human had ever shown him compliance before. Schtauffen body had obeyed his commands, but all the while his mind was fighting the control. This girl was a human body that he could manipulate and command at will, not unlike the host bodies he had inhabited up until now. A remotely controlled host body. A useful resource, to be sure. And she was capable of slaying one such as Raphael, as well. He decided that he would keep this girl after all.

"What is your next command, Master? Will I get to kill someone again?" Tira asked, her eyes wide with anticipation and enthusiasm.

Nightmare pondered the question. He had a willing servant at his ready - but what tasks could she fulfill? He conducted no business beside the mass consumption of souls. What were his other needs? Did he even have any? What were the remarkable things that existed in this world beside souls?

A scarce number of matters grasped Nightmare's attention, but those matters were grave. His first concern was to re-unite with his original vessel. He was now a soul without a body, a spirit clinging to discarded armor...his flesh and his origin, the blade of Soul Edge, was now separate from him. He longed to be one with it again, to be whole with his true form. But there was an obstacle in the way...

_That man..._

_...that blade._

"Schtauffen." Rumbled the voice from the helmet, dripping with venom and hatred. "The holy sword." Never before had the word 'holy' been spoken with such revulsion and disgust.

Nightmare sensed anxiety in Tira's soul. She looked tense, apprehensive at the mention of those two subjects.

"What about them, Master?" She asked, her cheer and enthusiasm gone.

"I want them destroyed."

Sadness, remorse, longing from Tira.

"Emotions? Weak." Nightmare spat. "What causes you this sorrow, Slave? Will this obstruct your service to me?"

"No, Master! No! Nothing will get in the way of my servitude to you!" Tira said desperately.

Nightmare could feel that she was lying, and he long since developed powers of deduction. "...What connection do you have to my former host?"

"None whatsoever, not anymore." Tira lied. "He was my former Master – _former!_ I no longer serve him." She said. "I feel nothing for him anymore. I have no opposition to obeying any orders that harm Siegfried." She lied.

Nightmare growled. "You promised loyalty to me, yet you would oppose my will if my will is against your own!"

"No! I _am_ loyal to you, Master Nightmare! I will obey your will, no matter what you ask of me! How can I prove my loyalty to you, Master? Give me any task! I will obey!"

Tira awaited Nightmare's reply in tense silence. The Azure Night was quiet and still as he contemplated an adequate test. After what felt like ages, his reply came at last.

"Cut off one of your fingers."

Tira became stiff and rigid for a moment - then, she knelt down, placed her left hand on the ground in front of her, and raised her ringblade with her right hand. She took aim, held her breath, and swung her weapon downward.

--

All Siegfried Schtauffen wanted was to be alone. At least, that's what he thought.

From the moment he laid his hand on the hilt of that cursed blade, he had spent three years of his life without the ability to control his own body. His state had been practically vegetative - unable to move a single limb, unable to lift even one finger - but he had spent the entire time conscious and aware. During this vegetative state, Siegfried had not been limited to the sight of darkness, the back of his unopened eyes. Instead, he had been forced to watch gruesome scenes of mass murder day after day, visions of killing and slaughtering and massacring and slaying and butchering - all conducted using his own hands. He would have preferred blindness to those sights.

He had been trapped, trapped within his own body, unable to move or control the limbs that had belonged to him for so long, unable to do anything but think and watch himself strangle the life out of innocent victims and despise the force that had taken control of his body.

That hatred, that loathing, that furious, fuming scorn for the blade was the only thing that had kept him sane. There was nothing else to cling to, no hope, no future, no chance to be free again - the only thing he could do was hate the force that controlled him.

Perhaps this hatred for the sword, this intense desire to extract revenge, was the only reason that Siegfried actually possessed the resolve and willpower to stand up and move his limbs again, after he had been freed from the sword's control, after the past three years of his life had been nothing but constant, perpetual torture.

He had almost forgotten how to use his own body, since he had been robbed of it for so long, but against every odd, he forced his body to stand up and move again. At first, he was overwhelmed, completely unsure how to determine what to do with his life from that point forward, but he discovered his destiny quickly - every time he slept or fell unconscious, lingering remnants of the evil force in his body would take control of him once again. Even if he was an independent man when he was awake, he was a slave again in his sleep, until one day, the force controlled him in his waking hours as well.

And he spent the next four years in that prison, that vegetative state, that absolute slavery. Another four years of the torture he had barely escaped, another four years of watching his own hands carve through the flesh of innocents. There is no way for anyone to know what such an experience is like - no one but Siegfried himself.

Seven years total. Seven years as a vegetable, as an absolute slave, as a tortured man...and he had spent every moment of those seven painful years with company. Company he could not ignore or send away, for his 'guest' resided within his own body. The cruel being mocked him, taunted him, laughed at him the entire time, only ceasing to torture him mentally when it was time to claim more lives using his body. He had not been alone for those seven years, spending every minute with the soul of that evil blade inside of him, beside own mind.

After Raphael had inadvertently freed him from Soul Edge's power, and the two swords had gone silent, and his body was once again his own, Siegfried could think of nothing but leaving the stage of this tragedy forever. He didn't want to have anything to do with Soul Edge anymore. He didn't want any more fighting, any more bloodshed, any more strife. He just wanted peace, to have a normal life, to regain the seven years of his life he had lost. He wanted to go as far away from Soul Edge as possible and just live in peace.

But, he knew he could not do that. He knew that if the sword was not destroyed, then the same slaughter and death would one day return to the land, and that if he left the stage now, he would not atone for his sins; for killing his father, for being the vessel for so many deaths. He knew what he had to do. He knew that he could not leave this stage before the tragedy was over. He knew that, unless he brought closure to this matter, it would never die.

He was broken, he was tormented, he had just awoken from six years of torture, six years of his own limbs refusing to obey him. But even then, this man refused to run away, refused to abandon the swords and leave the task to someone else, refused to shirk responsibility for his sins. Instead, even with a mind as tired, weary, damaged, and broken as his, and a body that he had almost forgotten how to control, he pushed himself into motion, took up the Embrace, and embarked on what he knew would be a long, difficult, and dangerous journey.

He ignored and avoided everything that did not further his goals. "Leave me alone" was his mantra, the first phrase he learned in every language he was forced to pick up, the only thing he said to other people unless he was seeking information from them. He did not want any more company. He wanted to enjoy solitude, a life free of the company of others. He only wanted to finish his duty, to redeem himself, and then live alone, in peace.

And he was alone, until he met her. And in the blink of an eye she became an irremovable presence in his life, just as Soul Edge had been - except instead of torture, she brought him pleasure. She calmed him and soothed him and relieved him physically and psychologically, bringing him satisfaction and contentment. She removed the stress that had piled up in his body for so many years and introduced him to a part of life he had never known. This new experience - this wonderful, beautiful, thrilling ecstasy - became his shelter, his haven, his sanctuary. If ever he felt sorrow, he would run his hands across her body and feel happiness. If ever the guilt of his sins was too much to bear, he would take her many times a night until his sins were all but forgotten. If ever he felt remorseful about his wasted youth, he would make up for lost time by laying with Tira as often as possible.

The man who once sought nothing but solitude and peace had become dependant on the presence of another person - and now, he had lost her. He had accumulated more company on his travels, but none of them were quite like her - and he didn't want them; he only wanted her. He had come to understand the value of loyalty and the joy of emotional attachment to a solitary woman. He did not want to share his bed with anyone else; he only wanted Tira. But he could not have her. And the one whom had kept him enslaved for so many years, the one whom had mocked him and taunted him almost perpetually, the one whom was responsible for all of his suffering, was the one who had her now.

Siegfried didn't care about anything anymore. He just wanted to finish his duty and then lay his sword down forever. He just wanted to finish atoning for his sins, complete the journey he had set out for, and then retreat from the world and live in peace and silence. He was done, done with this adventure, done with life, done with everything. He was simply coasting forward toward his destination until his deed was complete.

And yet, even now, a familiar impulse began to rise within Siegfried. For a long time now - almost a year - he had been relieving his anguish by taking hold of Tira's body. The experience had caused him to go through a multitude of emotions, from ecstasy to shame. He had found himself questioning whether sex was dirty or healthy, whether he was a lecherous pervert or a very fortunate man. At every hour of the day, he was surrounded by beautiful women with luscious, curvaceous forms. His heart belonged to one woman...but that woman was gone to him now. He did not know if he could ever manage to persuade her to return to him. If she had pledged herself to Nightmare in the same intimate ways that she had for him, he did not know if he could ever stand to take her back, either. The knowledge that his most hated enemy could be ravishing his lover's body brought him intense anger and envy and frustration.

He had spent so much of the past few months struggling with his sexuality, coming to terms with desires and emotions that he had never felt before. Most of this time was spent on guilt, shame, and regret, believing himself to be a perverted, sex-crazed deviant without self-control. In order to improve himself and remove this guilt from his life, he had become determined to end his dependence on sex. He ceased using Tira for selfish purposes, but still he did not treat her fairly - and it was only after she abandoned him that he realized his heart belonged to her and that he wished to be loyal to her.

Now his love was in the clutches of an abomination, and he had no woman to pledge himself to. There was no longer a reason to remain loyal to Tira, and thus there was no reason to remain celibate for her sake. His months of soul-searching and self-analysis had led him to the conclusion that sex was not filthy or depraved, but a natural act, a normal desire, something that is universally understood and felt by all people. There were women around him whom had sought his embrace before, and he knew he could have them again if he chose to. It felt bizarre to think of sexuality in such a casual way when previously it had been a source of great stress for him - but perhaps mutual physical comfort was exactly what he needed to relieve that stress.

Siegfried knew he could restrain himself if it was necessary. His willpower was superhuman, almost godlike - he had endured seven years in the worst imaginable torment, and had escaped the ordeal with enough sanity to continue functioning as a normal human being. Compared to his time as Nightmare, to be celibate was a mere discomfort. He could abstain from sex if he had to, he could be celibate if needed - but was it really necessary?

He knew that it was not shameful to be physically close with another person. None of his traveling companions would have laid with him if they had found such intimacy to be repulsive or unnatural.

Siegfried's eyes rolled over the slender and womanly forms of his companions, their figures full, voluptuous...and his for the taking.

Was it solitude or company that he desired? Isolation or closeness? Self-restraint and decency, or harmless indulgence and comfort?

--

Isabella Valentine was displeased.

How many months now had it been - eleven? Eleven months, and what did they have to show for their effort? The distances they had traveled, the continents they had crossed, the money they had earned and spent, the languages they had learned adequately, the locals they had questioned, the libraries they had scoured for information, the dead-end rumors they had looked into, the fights they had gotten into, the lives they had been forced to take - what did they have to show for it all?

They knew that the Embrace was invincible, and that only a sufficient amount of evil or holy energy would break the stalemate that kept the swords trapped within one another. Either that, or the power of that despicable white-cloaked moor.

Holy artifacts were rare, and although shards of Soul Edge had been widespread in years past, now it was nearly impossible to track down a part of the evil blade to purify. It would take ages before they could locate enough holy items to influence the status of the Embrace, and even then they had decided not to instigate a separation until they were certain that their holy energy would be enough to overwhelm and defeat Soul Edge before it could cause any further disasters.

Most of them had devoted nearly a year of their past lives to their mutual goal, and yet for all their blood and sweat and injuries and effort, they were only a fraction of the way to the destruction of the evil sword. Isabella was not pleased. She was quite dissatisfied, indeed.

And yet, her current course was most likely the most efficient one. What else could she do? In all their travels and research they had not learned of anything else with power equivalent to the two blades, anything else that could destroy the Embrace, seal it away for good, render it impossible to retrieve. Ivy had experimented extensively on the Embrace and had found that none of her alchemy or combustive agents could scratch it. She wanted to abandon their futile quest and take matters into her own hands, but there were no measures she could take.

There was nothing she could do but remain in the group and hope for the best. They traveled to lands previously unvisited and followed the traces of evil energy in search of shards to purify, but remarkable events were spaced apart by weeks. During those lulls in between action, there was scarcely a single thing to do, aside from fraternize with her uncultured companions.

Siegfried was a respectable man. He had his vices, but that was to be expected. Soul Edge had robbed him of the opportunity to become an educated or learned person. She appreciated him in a tight spot, but he was no conversationalist. The same could be said of most of the group. Sophitia was intelligent, but far too naïve and idealistic to see eye-to-eye with Ivy on any subject. Cassandra was a stupid girl who decided one day to grab a sword and have an adventure, knowing nothing of the consequences involved. Setsuka, although clearly an intellectual and easily the most sophisticated member of their group, lacked the English vocabulary to express her intelligence. Taki kept to herself, and frankly made Ivy uncomfortable.

Seung Mi-na had become something of a hobby to Ivy. She seemed no different from Cassandra at first - a chirping little brat who was far too enthusiastic about everything - but she actually had potential as a combatant and as a woman. She was emotional, let words get under her skin, and got excited over petty matters, but she was one of the finest warriors Ivy had ever fought, and in the short time Ivy her known her, Seung Mi-na had matured quickly. Ivy had taken the girl in as a protégé, teaching her how to become more effective in combat and how to remove her less desirable habits. Ivy nearly felt proud of the girl for the progress she had made, but she still made some of the same stupid blunders in combat, and still had a personality that got on her nerves. Ivy had no emotional attachment to the girl, but was spending more and more time with her in recent days, if only because it was a satisfactory way to pass the time.

And then, there was the newest addition to their rainbow coalition of love and joy, the aristocratic little rose named Amy. Ivy saw much of herself in Amy, and perhaps that is why the timid, shy little girl unnerved her. Ivy's foster father was a nobleman who had indulged and pampered her - the same was true of Amy. Ivy's father had been corrupted by Soul Edge, and passed his corruption down to her - Amy now suffered from the same affliction that her 'Papa' had acquired. Ivy's father had been killed and then kept alive by the influence of the evil sword, and Raphael had been an undead being, as well. The blood that ran through Ivy's veins made her a perfect host for Soul Edge - Amy's curse made her an ideal vessel, as well. There was only one thing to blame for all of Ivy's suffering; Soul Edge. This parallel extended to Amy, whose life was now in shambles thanks to the actions of Tira - who was tied to Nightmare - who was tied to Soul Edge.

For Ivy, looking at Amy was the same as looking a young version of herself. Her face housed the same demure and resigned expression, her body was adorned with the same aristocratic garbs unbefitting of a warrior...her heart was imbued with the same burning desire to have vengeance and justice, and her hand gripped a blade with the same determination and resolution. Ivy could see the girl becoming exactly like herself in a few years - perhaps not in appearance, but certainly in misery and character.

Ivy connected deeply with the girl, and perhaps that is why she felt so terrified of the scrawny lass. She had never felt attachment to anyone but her foster parents, never felt commitment toward anything but her mission. Even Seung Mi-na, her apprentice, was only an acquaintance to her. But this girl, this Amy, she felt a connection to. It was new to her, unfamiliar to her, frightening to her.

Half of Ivy wanted to embrace the girl, share her misery, comfort her, steer her away from the wretched path that she walked, give her the upbringing that both of them had been robbed of. The other half of Ivy had no time to mother an orphaned girl, no time to deal with yet another lost little girl whom had wandered into their league despite her uselessness. Ivy could not afford to let herself break down, become emotional, become weak. She had to remain the way she was, the way she had always been - strong, resolute, unwavering, unflinching - for if she allowed the façade to lower for even a moment, she would never have the strength to raise it again.

As Ivy looked at each of the faces of the members of her group, she wondered which of them were truly necessary. As she looked between the faces of Seung Mi-na and Amy, she wondered which of them deserved her attention more.

--

Sophitia had been chosen by the gods.

The _gods themselves_ had selected _her_. The _gods_. Supernatural beings, omnipotent deities beyond her comprehension. These transcendent entities had judged her to be worthy of fulfilling their will. She was a member of an elite class, held a title that only twenty-four other warriors had been granted. Her mission was divine. Her journey was holy. The gods themselves watched over her, protected her, guided her, and lent her their weapons, their armor, their strength.

She had no reason to feel fear, no reason to feel uncertain. The gods would not have spoken to her if they had intended for her to embark on a mission in vain, or fail. What reason did she have to worry, when deities were her guardians? What reason was there for anxiety, when holy beings were there to support her? She was justified in having absolute confidence in herself. She could allow herself to be completely self-assured, without any doubts or uncertainty.

Sophitia missed those days. She had been so young and full of energy back then, so innocent and naïve. She thought she was invincible, and for all the times she had escaped battle unscathed, she very well could have been. Her mind and body were still youthful, and she thought she had been granted an honor that few other mortals had ever obtained in the entirety of all history. It was such a romantic time for her, a time when life was magnificent, a time when every day was spent undertaking a hallowed task given to her by those whom she worshipped.

But things were different now. Everything was different now.

Every day no longer felt like a grand adventure. She no longer felt as though she was part of something special. She was on a quest to destroy the cursed blade once and for all - but it was a quest of stagnation. There was no holy grail, no tangible treasure that they sought; their goal was ambiguous, their target rather abstract. They had the very thing they sought to destroy, they simply could not destroy it. Not even the power of the gods themselves had phased it at all. They knew how to dispose of the abomination, but it was a task that was achingly slow, painfully sluggish.

They had already exhausted all venues and had only found one way to destroy the sword, one that required even more traveling and searching than they had already done for the past year. At this speed, it was impossible for Sophitia to feel as though she was on a thrilling adventure, or as though there were powerful guardians who wanted to see her task completed.

_They dwell safely above the clouds while we mortals are forced to do their dirty work...some gods they are._

Sophitia was no longer a stranger to blasphemous thoughts. Previously, when she was devout and pious, sacrilegious thoughts were unknown to her. Even before she had seen proof of their existence, she had utmost faith in the gods, unwavering belief in their existence and power. After the gods had shown themselves to her, her devotion had multiplied further, and she had dedicated her life to serving them. However, in the years that had passed since her initial journey, she had slowly been loosing her conviction for the gods. She could not doubt that they existed, but she no longer had complete faith in their potency.

Why had they chosen the daughter of a baker, a young girl with no combat experience whatsoever, to become a holy warrior? Why had they not bestowed such a title on one whom was suited to the job? Did they choose her because she was so faithful to them? Did they choose her because of the potential in her soul? Or did they simply choose her because she was one of their only choices? Were there truly so few believers left that a baker girl was the best pick of the lot? The symbol on her shield - Omega - suggested that she was the very last fighter chosen to aid the gods. Was she the last resort, then? The bottom of the barrel?

Hellenistic religions were practically dead at this point - belief in the ancient Greek pantheon had been extinct for over a thousand years now. At a young age, Sophitia had become so enamored with the romantic and fantastic myths of the ancient Greeks that she did not want to believe that the gods had never existed. She clung tightly to the hope that they had been real - so tightly that she refused to give up hope even into her teenage years. If she had simply been a more rational girl with less naiveté, she would never have believed in the gods, and never have been dragged into this mess.

Hephaestus had told her that Soul Edge was a threat to mankind. She believed this, because she had seen the suffering and destruction that it caused firsthand. Hephaestus had also told her that it was blasphemous for a weapon that powerful to exist, that such weapons were meant to be the creations of gods, not men. After considering the jealousy, envy, resentment, suspicion, and distrust that was rampant in Greek myths, Sophitia realized the truth: Hephaestus was ashamed. The God of Fire and Forge was embarrassed because there existed a weapon more powerful than anything he had ever forged himself. The almighty deity was humiliated because he had not been the one to create such a powerful weapon. He wanted it to be destroyed simply because it was not his.

Sophitia had also received the backing of additional gods, but she did not suspect that their motives were any more pure than Hephaestus'. The sword had been in existence for hundreds, possibly thousands of years - why seek to destroy it now, when their power was weakest? The answer was obvious: they sought to destroy it now _because_ their power was now at its weakest. The gods, with only a handful of believers left, now considered an imaginary relic of the past, had lost their power. With no one to worship them, their once omnipotent abilities had waned until they were at last susceptible to destruction. They did not fear for mankind's safety - they feared for their own. They wanted Soul Edge to be destroyed before it destroyed them.

The gods were legendary beings, but they were selfish and cowardly, shadows of their former selves.

Sophitia no longer winced at her own sacrilege when she thought such things. These thoughts had become commonplace to her. She had become jaded, cynical, exhausted with the gods. She no longer wanted to be their puppet. They had transformed her into their servant simply because she had refused to give up hope that they existed. They had rewarded her devotion by ripping her from a comfortable, happy life and throwing her into a world of bloodshed and combat. What reward was this, for all her faithfulness? A mind and body scarred by combat, a boring trek across the known world, a fruitless journey that dragged on endlessly, her loved ones as distant as possible?

The thought of Sophitia's family brought a sigh to her lips. How was her father Achelous doing? He was an old, old man, his time almost up - what if he had died in her absence, before she had ever gotten a chance to say goodbye? What of her mother, Nike? She had always been a frail and sickly woman - what if she was now ill with no one to care for her? And Lucius - she had not spoken to her younger brother in ages. What was he doing with his life? Her heart ached so painfully when she thought of Patroklos and Pyrrha growing up without their mother. Her own children would most likely be strangers when she finally returned to them, if she ever did.

And then, there was Rothion.

He was the love of her life. She had been married to him for almost five years, the five happiest years of her life, at least when she had actually spent them at his side. She had enjoyed nothing more than his company, his attention, his embrace. He was her ideal man, the man she had always dreamed of meeting, the man she thought she had no hope of ever finding - and she had found him, and he had loved her. She could not have wished for a better partner, and not even in her most wild fantasies could she concoct a better man. He was everything she wanted in a companion and everything she needed in her life. He was compassionate, generous, strong, dependable, fair, respectful, good-natured, pure-hearted, wise, thoughtful, and brought her to incredible levels of ecstasy at night. But the trait she had valued the most was his faithfulness, his devotion to her and only her, the knowledge that she would never have to worry about his eyes or hands on another woman.

Sophitia missed him so much. She missed having him and knowing that he belonged only to her. She missed watching sweat dripping off of his shirtless, bronzed chest as he worked feverishly at his trade. Her disappointment in the gods, her exhausting and tiresome journey, and the distance between her and her loved ones was nothing compared to the knowledge that her husband had embraced another woman - how many times? For how long? How many other women? Had he done them the same special favors that had once belonged to her alone?

When Sophitia thought of Rothion, she felt many emotions. There was a feeling of loss, and a feeling of betrayal. There was sorrow, and there was also anger. She blamed herself, she blamed the gods, and she blamed him. She had left him alone with no knowledge of whether or not his wife was alive. She had left him involuntarily celibate with no recourse but to find another woman to ease his yearning. She had left him alone for years at a time because a voice in her head told her to do so. Those voices, those gods...why did they have to ruin her life? Why did they have to take a daughter from her father, a wife from her husband, a mother from her children? Now her marriage was quite possibly ruined and there was a chance she would never be able to return to the man she loved more than anything else, the man who had stabbed her viciously in the back when she needed his support the most.

With all things considered, Sophitia wondered if there was anyone who could blame her for taking solace in Siegfried's bed. Her spouse had ceased to be loyal to her, so was it not fair to be disloyal herself? But two wrongs do not make a right. She had already caused her husband enough pain. If she wanted Rothion to forgive her, then she was only making things worse by taking revenge upon him. But wait - she was the victim here! He was the one who would have to beg for her forgiveness, not her! She had no reason to feel guilty when he was the one who had broken his vows! But she did not want to be angry at him. She did not want to betray him. She just wanted her husband back, her children back, her life back.

And sometimes it was too much to bear. Sometimes her suffering was too immense to endure. And so she laid with that man, that tall, strong, beautiful man, who could please her even more than Rothion could. And then she felt content, pacified, soothed and comforted. She was at peace in mind and body, her revenge taken sweetly and her desires more than satisfied. And she was happy for a time, but only until the guilt began to mount, the guilt on top of everything else. And every time had she slept with Siegfried again to stifle her emotions, her guilt eventually returned even more potent than last time.

Sophitia had to make a decision. In truth, she had a lot of decisions to make. Was she going to stay loyal to the gods? Gods whom were weak, cowardly, terrified, and all but completely forgotten? Was she going to remain a part of this languid, futile quest? Or was she going to return home to her loved ones? Was she going to forgive Rothion? Was Rothion going to forgive her?

Sophitia's life was in shambles. It was so difficult to remain a compassionate person, so hard to remain kindhearted. She didn't know how much longer she would be able to endure the life she led. She just wanted to return to Athens and raise her children. She just wanted to forget all about this sword nonsense. But could she just abandon the journey? Could she give up after coming so far? Could she just quit after enduring so much? Could she just leave before seeing this journey through to the end?

...could she?

Or _would_ she?

--

Cassandra felt like everyone was special except for her.

Siegfried was their leader. He had never said so himself, and there had never been a vote, but everyone accepted him as the person in charge. They all respected him for what he had been through, and considered him qualified to decide the fate of the swords and the direction of their journey. He had never let them down, even after that creepy girl of his ran away.

Even though Cassandra despised Ivy, she had to admit that they were lucky to have the arrogant woman on their side. She was easily one of their best combatants, and her vast amounts of knowledge had been of use in every land they'd traveled to. She was more educated in various languages than anyone else in the group, and often she was their interpreter and translator. The group would have struck many hurdles if it were not for Ivy.

Even Cassandra's own sister outranked her now. Back home, Cassandra had always been better than her own elder sister at so many things - Sophitia was coming to Cassandra for help, asking her to teach her something basic. But out here, Cassandra learned why Sophitia wasn't as good at cleaning and cooking and sewing as other women her age - she had spent her formative years learning how to strike an opponent's vitals, not how to thread a needle. She had thought of her beautiful elder sister as a ditz and a klutz, but among warriors she was respected and valued. Meanwhile, it was Cassandra who was always making herself out to be the fool.

The only person that did not put Cassandra to shame was Setsuka. The Japanese woman was only slightly more experienced than she was in combat, and did not even have a personal reason to see Soul Edge destroyed! And yet...she was probably the most well-liked and favored member of the group. She was an entertainer; she could sing, dance, play a variety of instruments, and had an endless repertoire of anecdotes and tales. She had not played a significant role to them after they had left Japan, but she had never disappointed them, either. She always gave them something to listen to, something to think about, something to laugh about. She made sure that their long, boring, uneventful journey was lively and spirited, and for that, even the most cynical members of the group appreciated her.

Taki was...Taki. Perhaps second only to Siegfried in fighting skill, she surpassed everyone else in combat experience, physical endurance, and supernatural ability. She handled most of the work in the scuffles they got into, she was never tired by the time the others needed to stop and rest, and she seemed to be capable of generating explosions and orbs of energy from the pure force of her will, whereas even Ivy required chemicals and substances to do so. She spoke less than everyone else, but when she did speak, pure wisdom poured from her lips. She was in charge of purifying the shards they located and generating an energy field that protected them from evil energy, a feat that required constant concentration and exertion, yet she never complained or shed a drop of sweat. She was their most valued member by far.

At least Cassandra had a friend in Seung Mi-na. Although her vocabulary was limited, their personalities were similar and they didn't always need words to get along. Cassandra liked Seung Mi-na because she didn't have to feel inferior to her - she almost had less to do with Soul Edge than anyone else, and got on the others' nerves sometimes, too. Still, she was almost a match for Ivy in combat, and was usually too busy receiving training from the white-haired witch to hang out with Cassandra. Cassandra was jealous of Seung Mi-na for being a stronger version of herself who got way more attention.

Even that little girl was more special than Cassandra! A host for Soul Edge, daughter of the man who liberated Siegfried, and too dangerous to let out of their sight for fear of what she might become if left on her own. She had no business tagging along, had no direct connection to Soul Edge outside of her affliction, and was probably even less skilled than Cassandra, but she was still more important and the others actually felt obligated to keep her around! Would anyone raise a single objection if Cassandra voiced her own desire to leave?

Every member of the group contributed to their journey in some way, or otherwise had value and a reason to stay - every member but Cassandra, that is. She really only insisted on tagging along because she had fallen in love with the romantic idea of having an epic adventure...and because she had developed feelings for Siegfried. But the man paid her no more attention than he did anyone else, and the one time he had been intimate with her, it had been cold and meaningless. She wasn't enjoying the journey she had once been so enthusiastic about, and there was no potential for a relationship with Siegfried, who had responded to her advances with indifference and unresponsiveness.

Cassandra was the least important member of the group. She knew it, and so did the others; while only Ivy was outright rude to her, the others obviously did not value her or respect her. Even her own sister, who had once been warm and kind to her, was now distant and detached. It had started when Cassandra gave away the fact that she had slept with Siegfried, but Cassandra could tell that other things were on her sister's mind that caused her disposition to deteriorate.

Cassandra was inferior to everyone around her in some way, and had no value or worth compared to her peers. She contributed less than everyone else - she almost did nothing at all - and she had no serious reason to travel with them on their journey.

The group's travels would bring them near Greece before long. Their next destination after that would most likely take them further away from Cassandra's home - if she was going to leave the group, she would have to do so when Greece was closest.

Cassandra had no reason to stay. In fact, maybe everyone else would be better off without her. One less mouth to feed. One less childish little girl to worry about. Maybe Athens was where she belonged, cooking, cleaning, doing the things she was actually good at, even if they were not extravagant or romantic.

Cassandra began counting the days until Greece was near.

--

Setsuka had finally found happiness, but she knew that it would not last much longer.

For as long as she could remember, her life had seemed like a cruel joke. Although she had not been born terribly disfigured, her Western features were foreign and unnatural to the people of Japan. She did not understand what she was or why she was so different from everyone else - and neither did others. For much of her life, she had been exposed only to disdain, hateful words, and violence because of some irrational reason she could not understand. She never known acceptance, never felt at home or as though she belonged where she was.

There wasn't a day that passed that Setsuka went without remembering her caretaker. The only person in her life ever to treat her as though she had value and worth. Only in his company had she ever felt at home, as though she had finally found her place, where she belonged. A cold, unfeeling world had shunned and hated her, but she had found warmth and comfort and love in the care of this wonderful man.

When her caretaker had been killed by Mitsurugi, all of the hurt and anger and grief from her childhood days came flooding back, many times more potent than before, as if to make up for lost time. Once again she was alone in the world without anyone to love her or appreciate her, without security or a home to return to at night. Her life had been shattered and broken, and the man she loved above everything else was dead. Her heart held nothing but hatred and fury and rage, and she became consumed by the desire for revenge.

The day finally came when she tracked down the man she was looking for. She had her chance to take his life, to avenge the death of her caretaker, to put an end to her suffering and thirst for retribution. And yet, she had spared him. She had come to her senses, realized the foolishness of bloodshed in the name of bloodshed. She realized that the death of another person was an absurd cause to devote one's life to, and had decided to choose more noble and virtuous ambitious.

Without any particular motivation or direction for her life, Setsuka had no idea what purpose she wished to dedicate herself to. However, as she spent more time assisting Siegfried and his companions during their tenure in Japan, she came to view them as friends rather than customers. She had never become very familiar with other people, due to her appearance and a difficulty in trusting other people. She performed her duties as an _oiran_ exceptionally well, but companionship did not come easy apart from paying customers. Genuine friendship was alien to her, perhaps because her profession was one of brief closeness and temporary companionship.

But things were different for her among Siegfried and the others, while in Japan. She could tell that they appreciated her guidance and assistance, without need for a forged friendship. They did not look upon her with disdain, did not cast judgment on her. They were each foreigners from a different corner of the world, as alien to Japan as Setsuka was. Around them, nothing felt forced, only natural. She felt a sensation she had not experienced since her time with her caretaker - she felt at home, as though she had found her place, where she belonged.

They were a stressful lot, each with their own tale of woe to tell. Even worse, they had traveled hundreds of miles across the Earth with virtually no entertainment to keep their spirits up. They could speak to one another and spar, but had little else to do, especially for leisure. Setsuka could not stand to spend a single moment idle, and if she was not working, she wanted to be entertained, or to be entertaining. During lulls in their trip across Japan, she began to perform for the others - simple things, just songs or dances or tales - and found that the others were very grateful. She continued to entertain them whenever she could, her only payment being the satisfaction of amusing a group that desperately needed something to smile about.

She could not solve their problems with her routines, but her performances took their minds off of their troubles for a short while, and simply lessening the tension and anxiety in the group was greatly appreciated. It was not long at all before the group was treating her like a longtime friend. She felt comfortable among them, wanted, appreciated...almost loved. She brought them something they needed more than anything else, happiness. They were a grim and dismal lot when she had first met them, but she could tell that just her companionship had done wonders for them, even if they had not become a union of delight and bliss overnight.

It was true that she had developed an infatuation with Siegfried, but her fascination with him had dulled over time to friendship. He had many traits that she found endearing, but a relationship was not meant to be. The appreciation she had found among her new friends had given her confidence in the idea that one day she really would actually meet someone who would love her; she did not need to desperately cling to the first man who seemed to reciprocate her feelings.

She did not remain with Siegfried because of the spark of romance between them, but because she felt at home among his group. She did not want to leave them; she had finally found where she belonged. The woman who for so long had been alone and unwanted finally had a place, had friends who were grateful to have her. They all had their flaws, both minor and not, but she adored each one of them. She didn't want to leave them, and didn't want them to leave her...

...but she knew that day was coming.

Their every effort was spent furthering a goal, and although their progress was slow, they were drawing closer to their objective. Any day now they could stumble across the artifact that would led them to destroy the sword they feared and hated so much, and even if they would never find such a thing, they gradually collected the fragments necessary to tip the balance in their favor.

When their journey was complete, then what would happen? Their partnership was not one of choice, but one of convenience. Even after so many months together, few of them were personally close to the others. Once their ambition was fulfilled, they would no longer have a reason to stay together, and they would go their separate ways, return to their old lives...but Setsuka had no life that she wished to return to. This was her life: being among friends, being accepted, being wanted. She had nowhere to go, no home; already, she thought of 'home' as simply with these people. There was strife and tension and so, so, so much traveling - but she could not think of any place she would rather be than with these people...entertaining them, making them happy, and receiving their friendship and thankfulness in return.

But what would happen when it ended? Siegfried might return home to his mother. Ivy alluded often to herself as being something that was dangerous, threatening - would she choose to live her years in solitude? Sophitia and Cassandra had a family to care for. Taki had been a fugitive for several years now, and her old clan had recently been decimated...she was just as lost as Setsuka was now, and a native of the same country. But Taki was not talkative enough to discuss her future plans, if she had any. Seung Mi-na was only clinging to the group because of Ivy and because she did not want to simply leave Soul Edge in the hands of someone else...although she also claimed that she would not return home until she had found someone whom she was looking for.

The young Amy had lost her father, and was now an orphan without home or love. She would likely be shunned by the world because of her affliction, unless it could be cured. Setsuka could see in the girl's eyes that she had suffered a great deal throughout her early childhood. Setsuka knew what it was like to grow up surrounded by hate and violence, and doubted that the girl was capable of opening her heart or trusting others. In addition, she was infected with the same disease of the mind called 'revenge' that Setsuka had once known. She felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy for the girl, who had likely known a childhood even worse than hers, and now felt a thirst for vengeance even younger than Setsuka had felt it.

Setsuka wanted to save this girl. She wanted to raise her lovingly and craft her into a fine woman while she was still young and developing, before it was too late to save her mind. Eventually, Setsuka would have to say farewell to her friends, but she needed someone in her life - someone to love, someone to care for, someone to love her back. Was Amy that girl? Was it fate that this young orphan had come into their care? Setsuka felt compelled to help her, obligated, as though it were her destiny, her calling - or maybe it was just her deep-rooted desperate desire for company, and her immeasurable sympathy for a girl whose life had been even more difficult than hers, and whose future appeared even worse. Perhaps she had become so enamored with the idea of rescuing this girl because it would conveniently fulfill her needs...but even so, Setsuka could not be sure that she would ever have such an opportunity ever again.

Setsuka was afraid, unsure of what the future held. She had found the life she had always longed for, but she knew that it was temporary, an ephemeral dream. When it ended, who would she have, where would she go? Who would Amy have and where would she go? If she could secure the girl's trust, then she could become close to her and raise her...and then she would never be alone again.

If she could rescue that girl before it was too late, then she would never be alone again...

--

Her journey would last a long time. Her task would be difficult. But Taki was patient. She could endure it.

Her energy was returning to her. It had required much concentration and effort to constantly sustain a field of holy energy around the fragments of Soul Edge that the group possessed. It was a task that drew from her strength every hour, but she had recognized it as necessary. She was patient enough to endure it as long as she had to.

Now, their collection of shards had all been purified, resulting in several small crystal-like items. It caused Taki some irritation that these shards were now being worn on the chest of a little girl like jewelry, but she understood that this was necessary. The shards negated the girl's influence on the Soul Embrace, keeping it under control for now. The girl's aura might contaminate the shards with time, but if this happened, Taki would simply purify them again. It would be inconvenient, but necessary. She could endure the exertion of energy it would require.

Taki mourned the loss of Mekki-maru. Although it was only a weapon, she had a sentimental attachment to it as a tool that had aided her for many years. Perhaps once the Soul Embrace had been broken and Soul Edge and Soul Calibur were free, Taki could retrieve the Mekki-maru from the Soul Blade that had become lodged between them in Japan. However, it was a trifling matter. Taki knew that it was foolish to mourn a mere blade; she did not allow herself to dwell on the subject for long. The loss of her most treasured possession was saddening, but Taki could endure it.

Shards of the blade were few and distant from one another. The wait and the travel between shards was irksome, but Taki was patient. She could endure it.

One of Taki's companions seemed to be a womanizer. Some of Taki's companions were loudmouthed and arrogant. Some of Taki's companions were naive and idealistic. Some of Taki's companions were too weak to participate in such an important mission. However, Taki had enough patience to deal with them all. Several of them could be irritating at times, but none of them were too bothersome to tolerate. Taki could endure their company.

Taki's only concern was whether or not her companions would have the patience and endurance necessary to complete their journey.

--

Dear Diary,

I'm not really sure if I belong here anymore.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I still really enjoy traveling with these people. It really beats traveling alone, for one thing. Between every one of us, we know enough tongues to travel anywhere without a language barrier. We pool our money but I don't have to contribute very much since there are a lot of us, so it's also cheaper than traveling by myself. My only real complaint would be the food, though. Nobody is really good at cooking except Cassie (or Sophie but only if it's bread) and sometimes we have to eat dead animals! Well, all meat is dead animals, but it's just not as appetizing when you have to help kill it and carve it open.

So anyway, I'm having a great time here for the most part, but I just don't know if I should really be traveling with these people. I don't really connect to anyone here except Cassie and Setsky. Everyone else is such a killjoy. Sieggy is really hot, but he's so serious all the time, and that's no fun. Sophie is nice, but she seems depressed all the time. Cassie's great, but I don't get to hang out with her nearly as much as I'd like to, and even then there isn't much to do around here and I don't know enough words in her language to say very much, either. I was kind of scared of Setsuka at first because she's Japanese, but she's so awesome! She's definitely the coolest person I've ever met, but she ran out of new dances and songs a while ago, so she's starting to get kind of boring. Oh, and Taki never talks, so nothing to report there.

I guess that leaves Ivy, or "Mistress Ivy" as she makes me call her. "If I'm going to train you I demand respect blah blah blah." I can't tell you how weird it is to run into someone after only meeting them once a few years prior. She actually came to mind pretty often, since I really regretted losing that fight, but it was how I wound up meeting Kong. It made me think stuff like, "What if I should lose battles on purpose because it might lead to some opportunity I wouldn't have found otherwise?" But then what if winning a battle was instead what would lead to the better opportunity? How am I supposed to know what potential event I am unintentionally missing out on at any given time because I couldn't possibly have known about it, but it's only a few moments away if I make the right choice? I think about this kind of stuff all the time, you know. Sometimes I feel like I'm so deep and smart and nobody else realizes it. That's why I write down all my smart thoughts in you, diary!

But yeah, I'm getting off-topic. So anyway, I'm learning some really important stuff from MISTRESS Ivy. She may use a different weapon than me, but most of the same rules apply to combat no matter what weapon you use. I haven't even known her for very long at all but already I've picked up so much and become so much better. I can defeat everyone in the group now except for Sieggy and Taki! I even beat Ivy half the time, but she refuses to admit that I'm at her level yet. Ivy's also tried to give me advice on being a woman, but I don't really want to take womanly advice from somebody who dresses the way she does. I kind of think that "flaunt it if you got it" mentality is kind of arrogant, you know? Not that I'm jealous or anything, I love my body, and I know Siegfried does too because I catch him peeking sometimes!

By the way, I hate Ivy's name because there is no way to shorten it and give her a cute nickname, since it's already really short. I learned her real name was Isabella and I started calling her Izzy and then she told me to stop or else she'd carve my eyes out. And she looked like she meant it, too. What a bitch, right diary?

Oh my god, Siegfried just walked by and saw me writing so I closed my diary as fast as I could so he wouldn't see the part about me saying he's really hot or catching him peeking but then I remembered he can't read Korean anyway and so I laughed. He didn't know what I was laughing about and gave me a funny look. I bet he thinks I'm a ditz now.

Anyway, yeah, the part about me not belonging here. So besides not being able to relate to anyone and the bad food and all the walking, almost everyone here is totally serious and dedicated to stopping Soul Edge. I know it's a really really big deal, but I don't really feel like there is much I can contribute. I mean, I'm the third best fighter (I'm TOTALLY better than Ivy, she may have more wins than me so far but that's only because she uses so many dirty tricks) but it seems like everyone else has superhuman strength or the protection of the gods or magical powers or something. I feel like once we start fighting something serious (even more serious than the lizard man, WOW that was scary) I'm really going to be in trouble. I don't want to die, diary! I really don't!

But it's not just that I'm scared or anything, I just feel like I have less of a right to be on this journey than everyone else. I don't want to say "Oh well" and go home just because someone else is on the job; I think that everyone else is more dedicated and more suited to the job than me, and that I'd just get in the way when things heat up. Some of these people have REALLY good reasons for wanting to stop Soul Edge, like they personally suffered from it and stuff, and meanwhile I'm just after it because I know it's a bad thing. This group is already pretty crowded as it is, they don't need another mouth to feed if that person isn't going to pull their weight.

But I'm definitely not going back home until I find Yun-Seung again. Who knows what that stupid idiot will try to do if he somehow manages to get the sword from us? He's so stupid that even if he knew how evil and dangerous it is, he would probably STILL want it. Someone needs to smack some sense into him, and I'm just the woman to do it.

Wow, I wrote so much! I wonder if the others even have as much to say as I do? Well, anyway, diary, it's late and I'm sleepy, so I'm going to call it a day and get some rest.

Good night, diary!

--

Amy could tell that they were good people, but she was still scared of them all.

The big, strong man was scary because he was a big, strong man. He was huge, or at least he seemed to be a giant from Amy's diminutive perspective. Siegfried's hands seemed big and strong enough to crush every bone in Amy's body with a single squeeze. Amy did not understand how he could possibly carry a sword that seemed to be almost as big as he was, or walk around in heavy armor that looked as if it weighed tons. All Amy could look at when she saw his face was his scar, which conjured visions of some monstrously violent battle, blood flying as both combatants sliced through one another's skin, leaving long scars just like the one on Siegfried's face until one was too injured to live. Siegfried seemed to personify a barbaric and brutal style of combat, the exact antithesis of the beautiful, elegant style that Raphael had taught her.

The white-haired witch was even scarier than Siegfried, despite being a woman. When sparring with the others, she shed her simple traveling clothing and donned a frightful ensemble that revealed every rounded curve of her body, yet still managed to look sharp, jagged and dangerous thanks to her long, golden-clawed gauntlet, and slithering, winding, whip-like sword. Appearances aside, she was easily the most aggressive and hostile person of the group, always confronting and challenging and arguing with the others. She was especially antagonistic toward Amy. She lowered her eyes whenever the woman's gaze turned her way, as though she might disappear as long as she could not be seen. She felt as though the woman hated her, and Amy wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

At least some members of the group did not make Amy feel as uncomfortable. The golden-haired sisters were kind and compassionate toward her. The elder one treated her tenderly and caringly. Amy knew she could always go to her if she had a question to ask or needed help with something. The younger one - unintentionally or not - treated Amy as though she was several years younger than she actually was. Although she might have been slightly condescending, this sister was good-natured and high-spirited, and always knew a joke or game that could make Amy smile for a moment. Amy had spent many years wondering what it would be like to grow up with a mother or an older sister. After meeting these two women, she thought she knew what it was like.

The woman in the long beautiful dress captivated Amy. She prized and treasured the elegant garb, and kept it in the best condition possible. As a result, she always stood out from the rest of the group and their often-drab surroundings. Her voice was soothing, her dances were enchanting, and her music could invoke any emotion from happiness to tears. She was far more entertaining than any of the jesters Raphael had kept in his castle, and Amy always looked forward to her next performance. The woman seemed to show a particular interest in Amy; she treated her kindly like the elder blonde sister, but was fun and entertaining like the other sister. Amy felt privileged to spend time with the woman, but felt as though it would be greedy to approach her for her company, so she did not spend as much time as her as she would have liked to.

The thin-eyed woman who wore skintight clothing during combat was unnerving. She only spoke when it was necessary, her every movement was as minimal as possible, and she kept to herself while the others were enjoying themselves. Although she had fashioned Amy's crystalline 'necklace', Amy saw her doing very little beside simple chores and duties to keep the group running smoothly. Despite her apparent inactivity, the rest of the group treated her with utmost respect, as though she were their most valued member. Even the white-haired witch did not taunt her, and when she did attempt to draw her ire, the silent woman would immediately reply with a response so shrewd and sharp of wit that the other woman could not devise a more intelligent retort, and was forced to back down. Amy even found herself learning to respect the woman for her efficiency and apparently clever mind. She had a feeling that the woman's true value would become apparent the very moment she was called into action. If nothing else, Amy could already ascertain the woman's value as a combatant; when sparring with the others, the thin-eyed woman was a beast, a demon, something inhuman and ruthless; but as soon as her victory was apparent, she would stop, bow, and return to her resting spot without a word. Her power was unmatched, except by Siegfried, the only one who could stand victorious against the enigmatic woman.

The enthusiastic woman in orange clothing was very cheerful and lively - almost too much so. Mistaking Amy for any other girl her age, she had tried to make friends with her new companion, but her overzealous attempts had only served to make Amy feel uncomfortable. She was not ready for such close friendship, and the woman's bubbly and bouncy attitude contrasted sharply with such a quiet and demure girl. Amy had come to appreciate peace and quiet, calmness and tranquility, something that was shattered by the woman's loud laughter and playful manner. Most of the group did not get along with her very well, but they could not fault her simply for being happy and lighthearted. At the very least, she improved the atmosphere of such a grim crowd, but Setsuka had that job and did it better. She seemed out of place to Amy, as though she did not belong on a quest of grave importance.

And last was Amy herself. She had become used to a life of inactivity since her days as an orphan when she would spend almost every waking hour in hiding, only emerging from concealment when there was threat of being discovered or when her hunger was too much to bear. Even in Raphael's care, she spent her time in almost complete dormancy; her most demanding activity was reading, a favorite pastime of hers because no movement was required beside what was needed for the flipping of pages. She was unaccustomed to moving unless it was absolutely necessary, because much of her life had been spent fearing that the slightest movement would reveal her location. She had never gorged herself on food, always eating sparingly so as to have leftovers to consume later when provisions were scarce. The result of this lifestyle had made Amy dreadfully malnourished and frail. Raphael's training in the use of the rapier had taught Amy how to get the most out of her tiny frame, the minimum exertion necessary for the most effective attacks. The rapier was a weapon that did not required broad swings, but precise thrusts - the weapon did not slice or cut, only pierce and stab. It was the perfect weapon for Amy, who hardly had the strength to cut her own food.

Amy's new life was anything but inactive. There was walking, so much walking. Although sometimes her group could procure horses and a wagon, it was too expensive to maintain such vehicles and animals, and when weeks away from civilization, horses were more valuable as a food source than as steeds. The group had become too large and carried too much equipment for each to have their own separate horse, especially when an additional mount would be required for supplies alone. The result was frequent travel by foot, which - for Amy, who could sometimes get through a day with less than 100 steps - was torture.

The first thing that went was her hair. Even as an orphan, she had prized her hair, the only part of her that had any sort of charm. She found it to have an appealing look when styled by Raphael's handmaidens, and was fond of admiring it in the mirror.

When the group stopped by a spring to bathe, Amy disrobed and entered the water, eager to cleanse and sooth her weary body, without any thought as to what would become of her hair. After spending quite some time in the water, gazing at the naked bodies of her traveling partners and feeling quite inadequate as a result, she noticed the presence of sticks and leaves in her hair. Her alarm at this discovery was noticed by the other females, who looked on disapprovingly.

In their months of travel, most of the other women had ceased to keep up their appearances, as the only male present frequently saw them all at their worst, and it was pointless to spend time on aesthetics that would be ruined within minutes by the harshness of their environments or combat. Most of the women were naturally gorgeous, without need to apply any cosmetic changes to their person in order to radiate beauty, but even then, a quest to save humanity from an evil abomination was no place for make-up or styled hair. The women of the group no longer considered appearance to be important, which is why Amy's alarm at the state of her hair was a sign to them that she was not mature enough or ready for this journey.

"If you're going to panic at a twig in your hair, you do not belong here." was the white-haired witch's opinion. She lectured Amy and told her that she could not count on having beautiful spiraling pigtails anytime soon, that hair provided no advantage in combat, that the rest of her journey would be spent bereft of handmaidens and make-up. Ivy's chastising sermon erupted even though Amy had not so much as implied any beliefs to the contrary, but the rest of the women did not stop her speech, knowing that these were words that Amy would need to hear.

Amy finished bathing in embarrassed silence, and when the others were not looking, she cleaned her hair of twigs and tried to fashion it herself. She could not forge a satisfactory shape, and left it hanging straight down. After she had dried off and dressed herself, she was approached by Sophitia in secret, who generously offered to assist her with her hair. Amy happily accepted her offer, but was not satisfied with the resulting pigtails - they reminded her too much of her hair as an orphan, and were nothing at all like her hair during the brief window of time in her life when she was almost close to being happy. She thanked the kind woman for her efforts, and settled on a ponytail that gathered her hair at the base of her neck.

Later, she was approached by Cassandra, who was clutching assorted cosmetics that she kept hidden from the others, even her sister. She offered to return Amy's cheeks and eyelids to their previous colors, but Amy declined - she admitted that Ivy was right, that this journey was not a time for pretty hair and make-up. There was no purpose in styling her hair nor applying substances to her face; these were trifling matters, insignificant in light of her Papa's death or the existence of the abominable sword that had poisoned him. She would abstain from prettiness and focus on more relevant affairs for the time being. Cassandra was visibly disappointed, but also proud of the young girl, who had proven herself to be more mature than previously thought.

Amy re-considered her wardrobe, but decided to keep such extraneous garments as chokers and fishnet stockings because these were a part of her identity, and more importantly, gifts from her foster father. She would not discard his memory by discarding what he had given her. Still, she took on a mantle to cover her shoulders and chest, and had Sophitia tailor her a skirt to cover her thighs.

The issue of combat was not so quickly remedied. The other travelers soon discovered that they could not spar seriously against Amy without seriously injuring the delicate girl. They resorted to safe training exercises instead, sending attacks for her to dodge and evade. She was always safe during these drills because non-bladed weapons were used for their exercises, but each time she was struck she was told exactly what kind of injury she had just sustained, what kind of pain she would feel, and whether or not she would die of it (and whether she would perish slowly or quickly). Amy gave her best effort, but was unaccustomed to sparring with a partner who did not wield a rapier. Her first session ended poorly with looks of disappointment from the others, but this only caused her to develop a strong desire to improve and try harder.

She swore that next time she would impress them. She had nothing else to devote herself to; there was nothing she could do about her affliction or her homelessness, and even less she could do about the dreadful woman whom had taken her Papa's life. If she could not even dodge a few lackluster training blows, how could she ever stand to defeat a woman whom had bested Raphael? Self-improvement was the only goal she had complete control over, and she intended to improve in whatever way necessary. She had never had motivation or direction or a driving force in her life before, not until she had lost the most important person in her life, the only person in her life, the only person who had ever loved her aside from parents she had scarcely known. That woman would pay for Raphael's death tenfold no matter what the others tried to tell her about abandoning revenge, and no matter what Siegfried said about the woman being his concern only.

Amy would become accustomed to this lifestyle. She would because she had to, because it was the only option.

Amy would become stronger, fit enough to evade the others' attacks, quick enough to parry, skilled enough to return their strikes with strikes of her own. She would because she had to, because she would never avenge Raphael without strength.

And Amy would kill that woman, end her life just as she had ended her Papa's. She would because she had to, because she could not live knowing that Tira lived as well.

--

"Enough."

Tira felt a twinge of pain as her ringblade nicked her finger just below the knuckle. Had Nightmare spoken a moment sooner, she would not have been able to react fast enough to stop.

"I will not have you harm yourself. I would not want a servant who is not able bodied."

Tira sighed with relief and stood up.

"Your loyalty appears genuine. I will accept your vows."

Tira's spirit soared with elation.

Nightmare considered what orders to give to his slave. He did not want to go near the Soul Embrace nor Schtauffen...yet he wanted both to be destroyed. He still did not fully trust his slave with the task of dispatching the latter - but did she have any attachment to the former?

Nightmare extended an arm, unfurled a long, claw-tipped finger, and pointed into the distance, where he sensed the disgrace that his vessel had become.

"I wish to be reunited with the weapon that I was forged within. You know who is currently in possession of that weapon - do you not?"

Tira slowly nodded.

"Bring me Soul Edge. If it is still regrettably intertwined with the other sword, so be it; I shall separate them myself and destroy the holy relic. I do not care whether Siegfried lives or dies so long as I hold that blade once again...but exterminate him if possible."

"Yes, Master." Tira said, bowing deeply. "You'll hold Soul Edge once more."

--

In the sky, a dark-skinned man draped in a white cloak sat cross-legged, floating in midair, his wrists resting on his knees with his hands upturned. He was accustomed to entering this position when he wanted to focus and enter a peaceful frame of mind. He needed his mind, body, and soul to be as still and calm as possible in order to detect the faint energies that he was seeking.

In the east, he could sense Siegfried and his band of misfits. He could sense the Embrace in their possession, and although it was composed of equal amounts of opposite energy that canceled and negated one another, his soul was able to detect the immense amounts of energy and potential locked away within the dormant swords. More energy than he had ever been able to find in all his hundreds of lives, energy that grew by the day as it slowly fed off the discord and friction of Siegfried's growing mob. Little did the fools realize that even as they quested to destroy the sword, they only increased its power.

And in the west, he could sense their destination. The group was moving toward a large concentration of evil energy - nothing like the land that had been polluted by Raphael, but still remarkable and detectable across countries, by those who knew how to sense it.

And there, in the middle of that evil energy, was a girl who had potential to ruin everything.

_The one who can straighten what is crooked. The one who can fix what is broken. The one who can mend what is fractured. Their path with cross hers soon. The sword may very well be purified as a result. The Slave heads that way, as well._

_I will have to intervene._


	50. Pure Breeze

The land of Egypt is recognized across the world by many icons. The Giza Pyramids, the Great Sphinx, and the Sahara Desert are all memorable and distinctive visuals that make Egypt the most easily recognizable of all ancient civilizations.

Ancient Egyptians had an elaborate set of burial customs that they believed would be necessary to ensure their immortality after death. These rituals and protocols included mummification, the casting of magic spells, and burial with specific goods thought to be needed in the afterlife. At a minimum, these "burial goods" usually consisted of everyday objects such as bowls, combs, and other trinkets, along with food. However, wealthier Egyptians could afford to be buried with gold, jewelry, and other valuables, which often made their crypts the targets of grave robbers.

Egyptian pharaohs and kings were buried with legendary sums of riches, enough treasure to ensure a man comfort and contentment for the rest of his mortal existence – a life that may be cut short by the curses placed on such tombs to project them from tomb raiders...if one believes in that sort of thing.

Yun-seong did not.

Although the corridors were dark, the air was thick with dust, and the temperature was slightly too cool for Yun-seong to be comfortable, he traversed through the ancient temple without grievance. Lit torches lined the walls, part of a belief that the dead would need light to guide his way in the afterlife, but it was still difficult to see far ahead.

Yun-seong was garbed entirely in black, and kept his back pressed against a wall as he slowly and silently advanced through the passageways of the temple, fitting the image of a grave robber perfectly. He was aware that traps often lined the corridors of tombs such as this one, and he proceeded slowly and cautiously with one hand pressed hard against a wall, ready to grip the crevice in between bricks should he suddenly find himself tumbling into a pitfall.

As he made his way forward, he felt one of his fingers slip into a small groove located on the wall of the corridor. He would have thought nothing of it if his finger had not moved a brick beside the groove. Stopping and inspecting the small hole, Yun-seong peered through to see that there was a hidden chamber located behind the wall. Of course! To make things harder for grave robbers, the crypt would be located behind a nondescript wall, not in the middle of an obvious, giant chamber at the end of a grand hallway. Yun-seong had likely found the resting place of some long-deceased Egyptian king.

He pried the brick away, and removed the nearest torch from its mount. Raising the torch to the hole and peering through, Yun-seong was almost blinded by the bright reflection of more golden relics than he could count. Coins, statues, figures, sculptures, religious artifacts, even furniture, all made of gold and studded with jewelry. Yun-seong had stumbled across a fortune large enough to ensure that he would be a rich, rich man for decades to come.

That is, if he cared about such things. Yun-seong wasn't here for treasure. Money could enrich a life, but not protect it. Yun-seong could not protect his friends, family, countrymen, and the ones he loved using coins and jewels. He desired fame, renown, a place in history – not as a man of riches, but a hero who defended lives and saved his country. He pushed the brick back into its place, and left the corridor as it was.

Sacred tombs were rarely visited after the deceased was buried, if at all – but on this night, Yun-seong was not alone in the crypt. It was occupied by dozens of men who were hurrying to complete their task and leave the sacred ground as soon as possible. They would only trespass in his hallowed temple for as long as it took them to repair the damage it had endured. People and materials had been gathered from across the land to mend temples that had been damaged during an attack – but exactly who or what had attacked was unknown. Although the Giza Necropolis was littered with scaffolding, cranes, and lifts to restore the battered structures, information on what had caused this damage was very scarce.

Several vague and cryptic rumors circulating the area implied that the damage had been caused by "a sword". Descriptions of its wielder varied too much to be reliable - the only thing consistent among these rumors was the weapon; a monstrous blade longer than a man is tall.

If just one sword could cause so much destruction, there was only one weapon it could possibly be.

And if these rumors were true, then Yun-seong would not miss a chance to see the damage before the repairs were complete. He had to know of the true power of this weapon, and required more proof than an abundance of reconstructive equipment and refurbished buildings. Only after he had explored a damaged temple and witnessed the devastation for himself would he be satisfied – which explained his presence in a pyramid meant only to be used by the dead.

As Yun-seong began to hear voices and the sounds of movement, he knew he was drawing near the part of the temple's interior that had been damaged. He approached with extra caution – being spotted meant that he'd have to incapacitate whoever saw him, and he didn't want any unnecessary casualties in case he found it difficult to debilitate an aggressor without serious injury.

Seeing light up ahead, Yun-seong knew he was close to where the reconstruction was taking place. Moving slowly and apprehensively poking his head around a corner, he beheld the main hall of the temple – as well as the destruction he sought.

The main hall was enormous, seemingly too immense to fit inside of the temple it occupied. Splashes of crimson defaced the flood, walls, and even the ceiling hundreds of feet above. There were corpses strewn about the room, some of them on top of massive statues, many of which were missing limbs or shattered altogether. There were giant gashes in the walls, cuts both thick and deep. There were also craters lining the room, varying in size, but all perfect spheres. No weapon, but only pure energy released equally on every side could cause such indentations – and some were deeper than the height of two men.

Everywhere Yun-seong looked, he beheld some enormous scar or cavernous gash that appeared to be the work of canon fire, not a blade. But all of the temple's disfigurements were shaped as a slash – they were cut, carved, not blasted...with the exception of the unnaturally round craters. It was indeed no normal foe that had done this, and indeed it was no normal weapon.

As Yun-seong turned his head from side to side to survey the destruction, he saw a giant sheet covering one wall. It was familiar to Yun-seong – he tried to recall where he had seen it before. He remembered – on the outside of the building, Yun-seong had seen a giant tarp covering one of the walls of the massive temple. He assumed that the aggressor had scarred the wall – but now that he saw the same tarp covering one of the giant walls of the main hall, Yun-seong realized how the aggressor had entered.

During his rampage, the invader had destroyed an entire wall of the massive temple and gained entrance through it. The blood and corpses littering the inside of the temple were victims that had been dragged along in the berserker's wake.

A smirk began to grow on Yun-seong's face in a slow and unsettling way. He began to tremble, and chuckled quietly to himself.

_Soul Edge._ There was no doubt in his mind. There was no other weapon reputed to be able to cause such devastation. He had been tracking the rumors of sightings of the blade to Egypt, where his search had culminated in this temple. There was no other answer – the weapon used in this rampage could ONLY have been Soul Edge.

_A weapon this powerful...it would be more valuable than all the riches in the world. Soul Edge...this weapon, this power! Such power could stop any attack, defend against any enemy, and save whatever live it was tasked with protecting._

Strength. Force. Power. As much of it as possible. This was the only thing that Yun-seong sought.

And Soul Edge was the only thing that would provide it.

--

Nightmare's proxy vessel served him adequately, but it could not match the performance of a true host body. While it would be possible to acquire a new host with little effort, Nightmare would settle only for the best. He was far too accustomed to Siegfried's form to settle for anything else; he detested spending months adapting to a new host body before he was able to use it effectively. Siegfried was still alive, and thus he was still fit to be a host. Nightmare intended to take that man's body once more...but the will of Soul Edge wasn't so foolish as to rely on a single course of action.

With time to spare as they headed west along the continent, Nightmare gave Tira a new instruction: to find another suitable host body for him as a contingency vessel. Specifically, Nightmare requested a soul already tainted by evil energy, so that he could acclimatize easily to the body. Nightmare made no preference for gender or age, but told his slave to find someone both corrupted by evil and unaware of it, so that the host would be easier to manipulate. Most ideally, he wanted his slave to find someone naïve, young, strong...exactly as Siegfried had once been.

Tira felt a deep sinking feeling in her chest at the thought.

She hid it well, instinctively putting on a smirk, suppressing thoughts of Siegfried, memories of happier days. She betrayed no emotion to Nightmare, and no hesitation to carry out his will, even when he'd ordered her to do herself harm as proof of loyalty. However, whenever her thoughts drifted back to Siegfried, feelings of weight and burden struck her – as though she was still indebted to him. She had spent too much time in his service to discard all attachment to him completely. Nightmare's aesthetic similarities to Siegfried were a constant reminder of the man she had once served. Aside from brief glimpses of dark skin, she had no clue what he looked like beneath the helmet and armor, but his silhouette reminded her – sometimes painfully – of her former Master.

While away from Nightmare, she found it easier to concentrate on other matters. As she scoured further west to find a new host, she tried to recall all those she'd encountered. Raphael, Cervantes, and Astaroth had all been strong souls, and all had some form of evil energy corrupting them. Each was now dead, and Tira could not recall anyone else with the same background.

Whenever she could, Tira would choose to travel through forests – not to avoid leaving a trail, but merely because she traversed tree branches far more quickly than soil. Either way, Tira had not expected to be followed, and have been completely unaware of her pursuer were it not for several giveaways. Although she could easily perceive the shadows around her altering and distorting in unnatural ways, she heard no breaths, no heartbeat, and could smell no odors...and it was these very traits that revealed the identity of the one trailing her.

Tira whirled around, ringblade in hand, only to find the curved blade of a scythe held to her neck.

"I see you have not forgotten me." Zasalamel noted. "And – unlike your cohorts – you do not impart any unnecessary words before getting to business."

Tira glared at him as she tried to conceive of some way to escape from her predicament. Given the relative difference in their sizes, she could probably escape if she allowed herself to drop and give way to gravity, but that'd leave her vulnerable for at least half a second...and this man had demonstrated he would not be caught off guard. So, she opted to speak with him, and try to come up with a better plan in the meantime. "What do you want?" She barked tersely. Eloquence and manners were to be reserved only for her Master.

"Heed these words, Slave..." Zasalamel began. "You may not boast the strength of Schtauffen nor the knowledge of Valentine, but your thirst for blood and your instability have made you a more than ideal host for Soul Edge yourself."

"...What are you talking about?" Tira demanded.

"Isn't it obvious? You are on a fool's errand." Zasalamel answered. "You are the host Soul Edge intends to use as a replacement; it merely wants you to acquire an acolyte to use in your stead."

"Why should I believe what you say?" Tira demanded. "When have you ever spoken the truth?"

"There is no one single truth; truth is as objective as anything else." Zasalamel replied. "People decide what is fact and what is fiction based on what 'truth' suits them best."

Tira did not wish to bother with Zasalamel's riddles. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done so by now. If he had reason to fear her, he would have disarmed her or distanced himself. Knowing that she could not harm him, and that he would not harm her, she slashed her ringblade at him in irritation. As expected, Zasalamel easily caught the attack, holding either side of the steel between two fingertips.

"You attempt to strike me down, but are you even aware of what would happen if you killed me?"

Tira did not answer.

"I would merely return, exactly as powerful and twice as prudent." Zasalamel continued.

"An empty threat. No one can return from death." Tira sneered.

"There is a way," Zasalamel began, "and centuries ago, I found it. This form you see is one of dozens I have possessed over the countless ages I have lived through."

"...Immortal?" Tira whispered.

"Do not envy me. The joy of living has long since subsided, and the pain of death increases tenfold every time my body expires. I am finished with life; I am ready for death...yet I cannot die by steel, nor flames, nor any of the countless methods that I have attempted. ...There is only one possibility, one option I have not pursued. It requires the Soul Embrace."

"...So that is why you seek it..."

"If you are willing to listen," Zasalamel said, drawing back and lowering his scythe, "I can direct you to not one, but two hosts to suit your Master's purposes."

"Why should I believe that you'd help me?" Tira asked.

"If the two swords clash in battle, then the energy released may be enough to shatter my curse. Nightmare must live for Soul Edge and Soul Calibur to clash...by assisting your Master's goals, I further my own. Should you end my life, I will only return and end yours. Should you still your blade, I will find death through the clash of the two swords, and trouble neither you nor whomever holds your leash."

Tira wished for nothing more than to see her ringblade carve a gash into this man's unwaveringly confidence face, but she knew it could do her no good. Her best option was to cooperate.

"...Who are these two hosts you speak of?" Tira asked grudgingly.

"Pyrrha, Patroklos." Zasalamel answered. "Children born to Sophitia Alexandra in Athens, each sharing her blood, blood that was tainted by a conflict with Soul Edge. They are young, defenseless, and entirely unaware of their intrinsic connection to the blade. They are ideal for the task you have in mind."

Tira recalled meeting the children, and how they'd been terrified of her, and Ivy and Siegfried...yet they'd warmed quickly, and might very well have started to trust her, even if her comrades had taken their mother away...

Zasalamel began to disappear, his form turning to shadow.

"Remember not to eat them." He said before he vanished from sight.

Tira swung her ringblade at the air he had occupied in irritation. His confidence was so infuriating, and he hadn't stopped talking down to her even once throughout their entire exchange. Of course, he had little reason to stop, given how powerful he was compared to her.

She hated playing into this man's hands, but she was through questioning and second-guessing his every word. The advice he had given her seemed as though it would serve her master perfectly. Instead of retrieving the Soul Embrace, she would capture Sophitia's two children. Perhaps she could even use the brats as bait to lure the others into a trap and snatch the Embrace right from their grasp...

...Tira felt a small pang of guilt in her heart as she considered betraying her former friends and allies, but she had faced these feelings before and would not allow them to stop her now. She'd already acted, already made her decision; she could not turn around, could not reverse her actions. Her only option was to move forward.

Zasalamel watched as the blue haired girl followed his instructions and bounded further west, exactly as he'd anticipated. He curled his legs and sat comfortably more than two hundred feet above the ground, giving him a good view of the terrain that lay ahead for her. With so many trees, the girl would traverse quickly.

She was quick to anger, and even quicker to kill, perhaps because it was simpler than trying to comprehend another person's ideology. Zasalamel expected no shortage of philosophical diatribe from Nightmare and Siegfried once the two of them were finally reunited, and he hoped that one of them might just say the right words to set her off...the Slave might claim to serve a Master, but when a dog is hungry, its only loyalty is to itself.

--

The moment Spain declared the Philippines as part of its empire, Southeast Asia was thrust into an age of turmoil. The westerners introduced their new culture without giving any regard to the time-honored traditions of the region. The foreigners stayed near the shoreline at first, but it was only a matter of time before their influence reached all the way to the center of the land.

As if they felt the need to hide from the encroaching footsteps of the foreigners, a tribe of native people secluded themselves in a small village nestled deep within the mountain valleys of the region. This tribe honored a deity of wind, and lived as one with nature. The priests of this religion descended from a single bloodline of shamans.

The tribe was aware that western influences were causing their neighbors to adopt a new religion, and lose faith in the deities of old. In resigned admission that their faith would not survive through another generation, the shaman family of the tribe raised their daughter to be the Last Priestess of the Wind. Her name was Talim.

From birth, Talim was raised to serve her community in many ways. She was trained to be a healer of the mind and body, a keeper of wisdom, a philosopher; a woman who provided stability to her community in any way necessary. Her deep spirituality gave her access to realms beyond the physical and states of consciousness unknown to most people. Even as a young child, she was wise and mature beyond her years, respected as a person of authority, considered a miracle-worker by her community.

Talim's spiritual connection to the wind allowed her to observe a great number of things that others could not. In the wind, she could hear soft whispers of faraway lands, gentle murmurs of distant cities. Talim heard voices on the wind with enough clarity to perceive actions and events halfway across the world.

From the time that she was a young child, Talim read the winds often - and so, the day that something changed in the wind, Talim recognized it immediately. On this day, Talim felt as though the winds were tainted - contaminated, stained, dirtied and polluted - by something dark and evil. Talim heard screams on the wind, cries of hopelessness and madness and chaos.

The evil aura surged into Talim with such intensity that she was overwhelmed physically and mentally. She collapsed and lost consciousness for several days. The people of her village were on the verge of losing all hope when she finally awoke. Talim's eyes were filled with deep sorrow, and she cried without knowing why.

By Talim's fifteenth year, it was common to see western merchants and explorers in her once secluded village. One day, a westerner brought a "vitality charm" to the village. The elders expressed concern when they saw the object, a peculiar shard of metal. They sensed that it did not belong in their village, that it belonged somewhere else. They also felt that its presence would have an evil influence on those who came near it.

Talim immediately recognized the evil in the piece of metal; it was the same malevolent energy that she felt on the day she collapsed. She wanted the fragment to be removed from her village...but more than that, she felt compelled to see that the fragment was returned to the place whence it came, where it belonged. She felt as though it was a sin for this shard of metal to be removed from whatever abominable place it had originated from.

"I must return this shard to its rightful place." Talim declared.

The elders tried to prevent Talim from leaving the village with the piece of metal. They feared that the purity of the Last Priestess would be tainted if she were exposed to the outside world. Her parents disagreed. On the contrary, they felt that by experiencing the world, Talim's purity and love for nature would grow. With her parents' blessing, the young priestess left on her journey.

As her village slowly disappeared behind the mountain range, Talim sensed the resonance of the same evil aura from other parts of the world. She could feel it in the winds that traveled across the seas and continents, circulating throughout the world. She knew that everything would eventually be consumed by this energy if the evil force continued to spread with the wind.

Talim concluded that there were more of these metal fragments. And like the one she possessed, unwitting people carried the pieces to all corners of the world. Talim knew she had to find all of the fragments and seek their rightful place.

Although Talim had never set foot outside of her village before, she felt no fear and no uncertainty. No matter how long the journey, she knew she would be fine as long as she could feel the wind.

Talim followed the aura of the evil fragments scattered throughout the world. She eventually collected several of the fragments, and learned that the source of the malevolent energy was a sword called Soul Edge.

After traveling for quite some time, allowing the whispers of the wind to guide her, Talim sensed another source of evil energy, and chose to investigate it. Her journey brought her to a mountain range with a steep ravine running through its center. A river ran through the valley, and giant watermills lined the sides of the river. These majestic waterwheels were unlike anything Talim had ever seen before, and apparently served a number of purposes – they pumped water to irrigate fields, passed water through an aqueduct facility to the other side of the mountains, and most importantly, caught the flowing torrent of clean water to aid those who lived in the harsh, mountainous terrain.

This human ingenuity of borrowing the power of nature to improve life captured Talim's heart. She had previously believed machines and nature to be opposing forces, two opposite extremes. When she visited this place and saw this perfect harmony between mankind and the environment, she began to feel hope that the new ways were not to be feared after all. She was also intrigued that water, a different type of power from that of the wind she worshipped, also flowed throughout the entire world to give life to its inhabitants.

And yet, all was not well within this paradise – she had only arrived in this land in search of a malevolent force she detected residing here. Seeking out the evil aura that she sensed, she eventually arrived at a small watermill where a group of orphaned children lived.

Upon learning that one of the children was ill, Talim approached the boy. The area around him was filled with waves of evil. Talim realized that the boy himself was giving off the evil aura. Talim asked the boy his name. The boy coughed and said in a voice that seemed quieter than a whisper: "Ashur." Talim asked what had happened to him to cause his affliction. The boy refused to answer. Talim could not bring herself to leave him, so she stayed by the boy's side and attempted to discover the nature of his condition. She was determined to cure the suffering lad before she continued her journey.

The stain of evil on a land is impossible to overlook, and it is only to be expected that this boy's cursed aura would attract the attention of more travelers than merely Talim in the coming days...

--

The breathtaking view of the watermill valley was astonishing to all who beheld it, but Siegfried and his companions did not allow the beauty of the ravine to distract them from the reason they had come to this valley. They knew that it was a risk to advance toward a concentration of evil energy, but after their experiences, not a single member of the group felt that it would be wise to ignore a possible threat.

They could sense the epicenter of the evil aura residing within a single watermill adjacent to a village nestled beside the river – but also sensed pure, holy energy fighting the evil. Curious, yet suspicious as well, the group cautiously made their way toward the watermill. They assessed the level of danger they potentially faced, steeled themselves for possible combat, and warily advanced toward the building, when the door suddenly creaked open, revealing a short, dark-haired, tan-skinned girl of foreign appearance and attire. She wore light blue garments adorned with long red strips – a style that was unfamiliar to the others, but resembled holy clothing to be worn at rituals. She was the sweetest, cutest, most harmless little thing, until one noticed the tonfa blades hanging from her hips.

Just as the group prepared themselves for the worst, the girl spoke. "Oh! Travelers! Could you please help me? There's a boy in here who's sick and needs help!"

She couldn't have disarmed them more effectively even if she had sliced off their limbs. The look of genuine worry that marred her smooth face, a tone of voice that couldn't have possibly been more sincere if she'd tried, and the innocence required to ask a band of armed strangers for help won over the group's trust rather quickly.

"...Um...of course." Siegfried said, allowing his arms to fall away from the hilt of his Zweihänder. "What's the problem?"

"I don't know. He won't tell me, and I haven't been able to figure it out myself. He's cursed, or afflicted by evil – something unnatural and impure. Will you come in and take a look?"

The group could already tell that the matter concerned Soul Edge. They followed the young girl into the watermill, and were greeted by a dozen young faces, all looking up at them with a mixture of reverence, inquisitiveness, and fear.

"Orphans?" Sophitia asked.

The girl in holy garments nodded. "I'm not one of them – I came across this place a few days ago. My name is Talim, and I'm here on a journey – but all of that can wait."

Talim showed the group to the boy, Ashur. Every symptom he displayed, from the sickly color of his eyes and skin to the nearly visible aura of darkness surrounding him, was indicative of Soul Edge's influence.

"What were you up to, boy?" Ivy asked. "Did you tamper in affairs not meant for children?"

"Please don't be harsh with him..." Talim pleaded. "The other children say he's a good boy. They all look up to him. I'm certain that what plagues him is no fault of his."

"What happened to you?" Cassandra asked.

The boy shook his head, slowly, wearily, painfully.

"I've spent the past several days trying to pry the information out of him." Talim said. "He won't say a word."

"We can't help you if you don't help us." Setsuka said, patiently but sternly. "Please tell us what happened to you so we can make you healthy again."

The boy shook his head again, this time with more conviction.

Seung Mi-na nudged Taki. "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"

"It could be any number of things." The ninja said. "I'd need to examine him closely. He could have spent too much time near a person or place that was corrupted, like Amy. Or perhaps there are shards in his body."

"Shards...?" Talim asked. She scurried to one side of the room, dug around in a satchel, and held out several metal fragments. "Are these what you speak of?"

The group tensed up, knowing that they would need to convince the girl to bequeath the shards of Soul Edge that she now held. "Those are dangerous!" Ivy snapped. "Give them to us!"

The small girl drew back and clutched the shards close.

"We are on a mission to destroy the source of those shards." Siegfried clarified. "They come from a weapon known as Soul Edge, which serves no purpose but to consume human life on a massive scale, and corrupt those whom it does not kill. Those shards can do no good, and can only cause harm. We have a way to purify those shards. If you hand them over, we can dispose of them."

Talim seemed unwilling to hand over the shards so quickly.

"...How do I know you're telling the truth?" She asked, suddenly not as innocent as naive as she once appeared to be.

"Amy, come forth."

Talim had to lean to the side to see the waifish redheaded girl that was hiding behind Setsuka. She peeked out from her kimono-clad sanctuary, and Talim saw a necklace of crystalline shards dangling from her neck.

"Hello! I didn't notice you before." Talim said. "What's your name?"

Amy slipped behind Setsuka, who nudged her out of hiding once more.

"This girl is Amy." Siegfried said. "She suffers an affliction caused by Soul Edge. Her condition is remarkably similar to this boy's, but is not as severe. We were able to curb the effects by adorning her with these shards – purified shards of Soul Edge."

"Oh! So then – could we cure Ashur the same way?" Talim asked.

"...We do not know how to cure the contamination of Soul Edge, only how to limit the aura it emits. It took every shard in our possession to restrain Amy's dark aura. This boy's condition seems...too severe to treat the same way."

Ashur's sunken face seemed to cave in just a little bit more. Talim look discouraged, as well.

"What can we do, then?" Talim asked.

"If we knew how to cure this condition, we'd have cured Amy long ago, wouldn't we?" Ivy said with exasperation.

"...So...we can't help him...?..." Talim asked timidly.

"Give up on lost causes, or you'll waste your life trying to obtain the unobtainable." Ivy said curtly.

Emotion flashed in Talim's eyes, but she said nothing. The room was silent for a few long moments, and then Talim spoke. "I won't give up on this boy. I'll stay here and try to heal him until I succeed."

"Siegfried." Taki said. "We should contribute to this girl's efforts in order to see if there is a way to diminish the effects of Soul Edge. If we can make no progress, we should depart."

Siegfried nodded in agreement.

"What happens to the boy if we can't help him?" Sophitia asked.

"We kill him." Ivy said bluntly. "Or did you want to adopt yet another sickly orphan into our colorful alliance of bliss and happiness?"

"KILL him? Why?! How can you be so heartless?" Cassandra snapped.

"If he lives, the influence of Soul Edge may contaminate his mind and drive him to become our enemy." Ivy said. "If not, then he'll simply continue to exist in this state of suffering and perpetual torture. If Soul Edge's curse ravages his body until he dies, then he'll die in agony. Wouldn't you rather kill him before he becomes our enemy, or perishes in unimaginable suffering?"

The group was silent, in awe of Ivy's lack of tactfulness, and also resentful of how every word she spoke was painfully true.

"I'd rather kill him than see him transform into an abomination like myself or Siegfried." Ivy concluded unnecessarily.

Talim finally spoke up. "No – NO killing!" She said. "We can save him! I know it! I can feel it!"

"You know nothing of Soul Edge, girl." Ivy said, continuing to show no mercy. "Many of us have battled it for the better part of our lives; you've only just been introduced to it. You can't say who we can and can't save."

"...We cannot say that for sure, either." Taki said. "Our own knowledge of Soul Edge is incomplete, and we are continuing to learn more about the abomination all the time. This journey is perilous; there is no reason not to spend some time and effort attempting to find a way to diminish Soul Edge's influence."

The group sided with Taki. It was decided that they would remain in the watermill village for a few days and assist Talim in attempting to find a way to weaken the effects of Soul Edge on Ashur and Amy.

And still the watermill village had not yet seen the last traveler who would soon be entering its confines...

--

Yun-seong removed his finger from his nose, examined the dark yellow crust on the tip of his fingernail, and then flicked it into the river that he was walking beside. He looked up at the row of watermills lining that river, scoffed to himself as he thought of all the time wasted building those constructs when it would have been easier to just move to a place that was well-irrigated, and then turned his attention toward the particular watermill the he sensed evil energy emanating from.

He had come to this land after hearing a story of a fortress city overlooking a river that had warred with neighboring nations over a fragment of Soul Edge. The fortress city had eventually been destroyed, but survivors of the war were living in a village up the river. After tracing the riverbank and its line of giant waterwheels, he'd finally found the village he sought – and it appeared that he was still hot on Soul Edge's trail.

He knocked loudly on the door of the watermill, and as the door opened, he was greeted by the face of Seong Mi-na.

Time seemed to grind to a halt. The world around them seemed to disappear. It was too surreal to be possible, yet both of them knew they were not dreaming. A coincidence of legendary proportions – or perhaps it was more surprising that it had taken so long for the two of them to finally cross paths, when their journeys both revolved around the same object.

All at once time began to flow again and the world came back to life. They exclaimed one another's names and embraced each other simultaneously. They laughed long and hard without entirely knowing why, and when the shock had finally worn off, they were able to function normally.

At least, that is what might have happened if the two had not parted on bad terms.

"YOU!" Mi-na exclaimed angrily, reaching for her weapon beside the door and swinging it at Yun-seong's head. He dropped to the ground, a reflex action born from countless sparring matches against an all too predictable Mi-na, swung his leg to knock Mi-na off her feet, turned, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Mi-na, of course, jumped above his sweeping kick, a reflex action born from countless sparring matches against an all too predictable Yun-seong, and then gave chase without missing a beat.

The two chased one another for quite a distance until Yun-seong reached a dead end at a wooden platform overlooking the river. Turning around to see hell in a red-and-green dress running toward him, and then looking down to see the river below him, he held his breath and jumped. Mi-na ran to the edge of the platform and looked down, only to discover that Yun-seong was hanging off the edge by his fingertips. After taking a moment to use his vantage point to enjoy the view of Mi-na's panties and give an approving wink and thumbs-up, he reached up, grabbed her ankle, and yanked hard to pull her into the river below. Of course, as Mi-na tumbled downward, she in turn grabbed his ankle, and both of them took the fall.

They landed in the water a scant few feet below, and while using one hand to grip the other and the other hand to clash weapons, they engaged in a very soggy battle for quite a ways down the river, until they began to hear the roar of crashing water, and then paddled desperately for shore, which they reached only seconds before it would have been too late to avoid a fatal trip over the side of a waterfall.

They both sprawled out on the shore, dripping wet and panting heavily from their chase and fight, and spent several minutes wheezing loudly as they caught their breath and spat out the water they'd swallowed. After they had recovered from their exhaustion and turned to face one another, _that_ was when time froze, unfroze, they screamed one another's name, embraced, and laughed for what seemed to be an eternity.

When they had recovered from their fit of hysteria, they spoke to one another about the exotic lands they had traveled across, the phenomenal things they had seen, and the accomplishments they had achieved. They purposefully avoided mentioning their objectives. They knew that the moment the issue of Soul Edge arose, their conflicting beliefs would dig a deep rift between them. They lost track of how much time they spent lying on the shore of the river beside the waterfall, discussing the past year, but finally returned to reality in the end.

"Why are you here?" Yun-seong asked.

"There's a sick child in this village. My traveling companions and I are trying to help him recover."

"Wow." Yun-seong remarked. "You're such a big softie. Don't you ever think of yourself? You're gonna break your back and put wrinkles on that pretty face of yours if you spend all your time worrying about others." Mi-na smiled, knowing that this was Yun-seong's away of complimenting her compassion.

"And why are you here?" She asked.

Yun-seong smirked and looked away. It wasn't possible to dodge the issue anymore. Mi-na leaned towards him and urged him to respond with a serious look.

"...You know why I'm here." He said, with a guilty grin.

The temporary ban on mention of the sword was lifted, and their conversation took on a much more solemn tone. Mi-na scolded Yun-seong, and lectured him about the evils of Soul Edge. She told him everything she had seen the sword cause and create during her journey, and told him how much it had caused others to suffer.

"Soul Edge has driven all of its wielders mad, and has harvested the souls of all whom have ever gone near it! The sword is a destroyer of lives, and a destroyer of nations! There's no way that thing will save our country!" Mi-na admonished, her face red with passion. It had been some time since Yun-seong had been subjected to Mi-na's scolding, and while he listened to her lengthy speech about the dangers of Soul Edge without voicing dissent, his face clearly showed that he felt otherwise.

Frustrated with him, Mi-na eventually got up and walked away from Yun-seong to stew in anger. All the same, Mi-na could tell that Yun-seong's journey had matured him. The old Yun-seong would have argued feverishly with her, but the new Yun-seong chose to be silent instead of quarreling despite his opposing opinions. Yun-seong was indeed wiser, but his core beliefs were nonetheless the same.

She was furious at him for being so stubborn, but she could not bring herself to hate him. She had grown up with Yun-seong; he was like a younger brother to her. She had to watch him, so that she could be at his side and help him make the right choices – and stop him from making the wrong ones.

She turned around to face him and make up after their one-sided fight, and saw him adjusting his pants and belt as he walked away from the riverside.

Mi-na blinked several times. "...You...were you just..."

Yun-seong nodded sheepishly. "Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go."

"YUN-SEONG! People DRINK that water! Don't EVER do that again!"

"The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do!" Yun-seong said with a massive grin on his face as he made his way toward the village.

--

Seong Mi-na introduced Yun-seong to her companions. His unique personality and fun-loving attitude made him quick friends with Cassandra and Setsuka, but the others were somewhat wary of him. Mi-na had spoken of Yun-seong during their travels, and the group was well aware that Yun-seong sought the very sword they had in their possession. The group approached Mi-na and asked her what to do about Yun-seong's mission. She told them that she had tried her best to persuade him, and that her efforts were all in vain. The other members of the group decided not to confront Yun-seong about the matter unless it was necessary – he seemed too stubborn to change his mind no matter how many of them gave him all the reasons why his quest was flawed and futile.

Yun-seong, despite being hotheaded and childish, was perceptive. He noticed that the others had something to hide, and noticed that the sick boy named Ashur seemed to react strangely every time someone mentioned the words "Soul Edge." While the other children quickly grew fond of Yun-seong because of his nature, Ashur alone was cold toward him.

"He knows something..." Yun-seong mused to himself. He decided to wait for an opportunity to question the boy.

Meanwhile, Talim's efforts to cure Ashur had borne no fruit. Every member of the group had suggested and tried every method they could conceive of, and Taki had exhausted every purification technique she possessed, yet the boy only seemed to get sicker with every day that passed.

Even worse, Talim's health appeared to be suffering, as well. The others had learned that this girl was apparently a shaman priestess of respectable ability. Raised to be a religious leader and taught spiritual arts of healing, Talim was far more than she appeared to be. When asked to display her powers, she demonstrated control over the wind and performed healing arts without use of any supplies. The girl was certainly not some misguided, naive, inexperienced youth; she was a genuine miracle worker, and her healing abilities surely could have healed any affliction lesser than one of Soul Edge.

However, after a few days passed, Talim reported disturbing news. She was losing her powers – her abilities became weaker the more she used them, and the wind did not respond to her as it once had. The group was quick to decide the cause of this phenomenon – the influence of Soul Edge was afflicting Talim, corrupting the purity that gave her the power to perform her miracles. If she continued to nurse Ashur, she could eventually fall prey to the same ailment.

Upon hearing this, Talim was disheartened, but refused to give up on the boy. "I simply have to try harder, then." She said bravely, without even one ounce of doubt in her eyes or voice.

Several more days passed, and Ashur's symptoms gradually worsened. Discussing the matter amongst themselves, the group decided that it was time for Talim to stop caring for the boy. However, Talim begged them for one last chance; she had conceived of something new.

Talim came up with the idea of passing the evil energy inhabiting Ashur through her own body and out into the wind currents flowing through the sky. It was an extreme, drastic measure, but all other plans had failed, and she could find no other alternative. The group agreed to allow Talim one final chance to heal Ashur.

Talim began the treatment. Several hours passed with no sign of progress...but finally, after spending a quarter of a day at the treatment, Talim's plan finally began to show a sign of success. Little by little, at an achingly slow pace, evil energy was escaping Ashur's body. The energy that left him did nothing more than to drift harmlessly toward the atmosphere, where the winds of the ravine purified it at Talim's request.

However, an unforeseen side effect of Talim's treatment quickly made itself apparent. The impure, evil energy that passed through Talim's body was slowly piling up like sediment, building up inside of her, and eating away her purity as a priestess. Slowly, Talim felt the voices of the wind growing weaker and weaker – not only were her powers fading, but she was also losing her bond with the wind.

The gradual loss of her most treasured ability caused Talim immense suffering. She would have sacrificed a limb before her link with the wind. She was losing something that had always been with her, something more important than words could express.

Tragically, Talim's sacrifice appeared to be in vain. Despite the fact that the evil energy was being forced out of the boy's body, Ashur's symptoms rapidly worsened. It became apparent that he would not last another few days before his death.

"Talim, it's time to stop." Siegfried urged.

"No!" Talim said. "I have to save him! I promised him I would!"

"You don't have to feel guilty, Talim." Sophitia said. "You did your best. You've done a commendable job. There are people twice your age who could never stand to endure the stress that you've been under. You've done more for this boy than anyone else in the world could have done...but it's time to stop. You're only hurting yourself."

Talim shook her head passionately. "I don't want him to die!"

"Everyone has to die sometime." Ivy said. "There are people dying all over the planet right now. Think of all the lives you COULD have saved if you hadn't been trying to save a lost cause who was doomed before you ever – "

"_No_." Talim said defiantly and boldly, the first sign of impudence she had ever shown. "I won't give up...not after coming this far. Then everything so far will have been a waste."

"You're only going to waste even more of your effort and lose more of your power if you keep this up." Cassandra said. "I really hate to admit it, but I think we've done all we can for him."

Talim's eyes narrowed, her face scrunched in a sneer of fury, and she bared her teeth. "..._Soul Edge_." She hissed spitefully.

It was the first time anyone had heard the girl under the influence of such powerful negative emotion. Her two words had dripped with such hatred, such abhorrence, such utter disgust and revulsion that, for a split second in which the kindhearted and innocent girl disappeared and was replaced by a girl seething with loathing and anger, everyone in the room became afraid of Talim for the first time.

"This is what it does to people...those who it does not harm directly, it harms indirectly..." Setsuka observed.

"The child is suffering greatly, and his end is near. It is only right allow him to die with dignity." Taki said.

"...So, we're going to...kill him, now?" Seong Mi-na asked.

Dead silence.

"Hey, has anyone even asked the kid what HE wants?" Yun-seong asked in a loud, piercing voice that only he could speak with.

All eyes were on the boy, his face pale and his hair matted with sweat.

"It hurts." He whispered. "It hurts too much."

Not a single sound. Not a single breath.

"...Not my body. The burden...that I'm placing on you all. ...I just want it...to end."

The room was quiet for an eternity, and then Talim rose to her feet.

"I've been doing it wrong." She said. "This entire time...I should have been doing it differently."

She briskly walked from the room, not bothering to clarify her vague statement. The others, concerned for her well-being, went after her. She was too emotionally unstable to be left unsupervised.

Yun-seong, however, stayed behind. He stared at the boy in silence. Several minutes passed as the two silently stared at one another.

"...What is it that you seek, traveler from the East?" Ashur finally said, suddenly speaking under far less labor than before.

"I seek power." Yun-seong said simply and honesty.

"Why?" Ashur asked.

"Because power can save lives." Yun-seong replied.

Ashur gathered his strength before responding. "True. Power can be used to save lives...but evil power can only take lives. Evil power saves nothing, and no one. You won't be able to save anybody by wielding power which comes from an evil source."

"Power is power! It's how you use it that counts, not what type of power it is!" Yun-seong said passionately. He would never back down from his beliefs, especially not to some sick kid.

"...So, then...you seek the sword? Soul Edge? For its power?" Ashur asked.

"Yes! I will claim Soul Edge and use it to protect my country!" Yun-seong said loudly and proudly.

The boy shook his head sadly. "...Have a seat. I want to tell you a story."

It took a long time for Ashur to tell Yun-seong the story. Although Ashur had pretended to be under far more strain than he actually was, he was still under immense stress and it pained him to speak. However, he was passionate enough about the subject of this story to convey the entire narrative even in his condition.

Ashur told Yun-seong the story of the fortress city that had been destroyed in the recent war. The war, just as the rumors said, was all part of an elaborate scheme by the lord of the city to obtain a fragment of Soul Edge. After the lord had finally obtained the fragment, he was corrupted by its evil influence. In search of a way to control others using the fragment, he begun to conduct terrible experiments on prisoners of war, using the fragment to do terrible things to their bodies. When he ran out of prisoners, he captured orphans to use as his test subjects. He eventually used his own son in his experiments.

The lord of the city eventually went mad and began an indiscriminate slaughter. Aware of the fortress city's activities, the neighboring countries attacked. Everything came to an end when the lord was finally killed.

"How did the lord die?" Yun-seong asked.

There was terrible sadness in Ashur's eyes. "His son. His son killed him. He knew that his father was no longer the man he used to be. He did not want to see his father cause any more harm."

"...So...I guess you were one of the orphans used in the experiments?"

"...I was used as a test subject, yes. The other kids here with me were also going to be used in the experiments. I'm glad I was able to rescue them. I just wish..." The boy clenched his fists tightly and turned away.

Yun-seong stood up wordlessly, drew his sword, and placed the hilt in the boy's hand.

"This sword...I got this sword from Mi-na. It's a treasure passed down through her family. It is said that the blade is enchanted; it's a mirror that shows what lies in the depths of the heart of the one who holds it."

The boy gazed at his own reflection in the blade. The longer her looked into the blade, the more he seemed to be at ease - relieved, as though he had found inner peace.

"Don't give up before the end, kid. Fight until your last breath. Don't be a quitter."

Ashur nodded.

"By the way...don't feel bad about what you did. You made the right decision."

Yun-seong took his sword from the boy's hand, and began to leave the room.

Before he left, he heard a voice barely above a whisper say, "Thank you."


	51. Corrupt Zephyr

Talim's had a new plan to save Ashur, one that was even more radical than her previous idea.

Her error, she reasoned, was that she was attempting to draw evil energy out of the boy's body using her own power. She now realized that she would have to call upon a higher power for assistance. By calling down the wind currents flowing through the sky into Ashur's body, she could force the evil energy out of him much faster. However, she would still be required to pass the evil energy through her own body – without a receptacle to 'aim' the evil energy away, that energy would simply corrupt the land and water and air and people all around. It was an even more drastic and dangerous technique than the last one, but Talim could think of no other alternative. She stated that she would run the risk of not being able to expel the evil energy from her body, and lose her powers or die. However, she was willing to accept the risk. The others flatly refused to allow such a ritual to take place...until Ashur gave his approval.

When the others attempted to inform Ashur that they were going to end his suffering, he forbid them to do so, and asked Talim to continue treating him. His sudden vigor and the complete reversal of his opinion were shocking. It was obvious that he was not demanding Talim's help out of selfishness – he simply had faith in the girl. Although the others disapproved, the boy had the final say on the matter of his own life, and Talim had already accepted all risks involved. The others could have stopped Talim and Ashur if they wanted to, but they were so moved by the conviction of the two children that they decided to allow them to do as they wished.

After resting and recovering as much energy as she could, and moving the bedridden Ashur outside of the watermill and onto the grass outside, Talim began the ritual.

She gently embraced the frail body of the boy, and called upon the wind. She opened the boundaries of her heart, overlapping her soul with the soul of Ashur, as well as the serene winds that crossed the heavens. The physical boundaries of flesh no longer mattered; Talim, Ashur, and the wind were as one.

In this moment, the wind rushed down, flowed through Ashur's body and into Talim's body with all the force of a hurricane. The evil energy was exorcised from Ashur almost instantaneously. The entirety of the energy flowed directly into Talim's body, but it did not spend more than a single moment occupying her. It was rushed out as soon as it had come, and the energy of Soul Edge flowed away, rising up into the sky, into the atmosphere. The wind swirled and churned around the energy, purifying it, until the energy was as holy as all the rest occupying the watermill valley.

And, in that instant, in that moment when she was one with the pure spiritual energy of the world...Talim beheld a vision. A radiant light appeared to her. She saw flowing water, a pure blue sky, and a shimmering, crystalline sword...It was beautiful vision, and although it was fleeting, she felt comfort, because she knew for some reason that the source of this vision lay somewhere nearby.

When the ritual ended, not a single remnant of evil energy was left in either of their bodies.

Talim collapsed, not from fatigue or exhaustion, but from relief. Ashur's strength returned to him almost immediately. The others rushed to the side of the two children to verify that they were both okay. Neither of them bore a single sign of injury, and both were in perfect health – they both felt even better than ever before.

It was a miracle. Talim was a miracle-worker. The others came to feel the same reverence for her that they had felt when beholding Hephaestus. Not only did Talim possess supernatural abilities, but her bravery, compassion, and determination were superhuman as well. She was the stuff of legends, the sort of remarkable, rare human being that can have an effect on the entire world. Everyone around her was honored to be in her presence.

There was a celebration, a sudden surge of joy that most people present had all but forgotten. After months upon months of disappointment and failure, finally there was a grand success. After days and days of futile effort, finally there was victory. After countless hours of saying that it couldn't be done, the impossible had been accomplished.

For the first time in many long months, the weary and tired travelers in the village that day had something to cheer about.

While the children celebrated and danced with a healthy, sprightly Ashur, the adults praised Talim and applauded her actions. Those who doubted her apologized for discouraging her – except for Ivy, who only spoke the word "Congratulations" and then fell silent.

Siegfried felt a tugging on his sleeve – he looked down to see Amy, shyly and timidly looking up at him, an unspoken request in her eyes.

"Talim." He said, as he placed his hand on Amy's back and nudged her forward.

Talim performed her ritual of purification a second time, this time to cure Amy. The procedure went just as smoothly, just as quickly, and just as flawlessly as the first one. It began and ended so quickly it was almost anticlimactic – indeed, some of the children playing nearby were never even aware that the ritual took place a second time.

There were more cheers and more congratulations for Talim, but now that the group had witnessed two miracles, their thoughts turned – as always – toward what implications the latest events had for their quest.

"The Embrace, Siegfried." Several of the man's companions whispered to him. He nodded to let his acquaintances know that he was considering the same thing.

Talim had been busy over the past week, laboring tirelessly and selflessly to cure Ashur. She had never inquired as to the specific details of Siegfried's journey. He had explained that they were on a quest to destroy Soul Edge, but he had never quite mentioned that he possessed both Soul Edge and its counterpart. It was time, he decided, to reveal the Embrace.

The group huddled together to discuss the matter. "Should we tell her now?" Siegfried asked.

"Why wait another second?" Ivy replied. "The sooner we tell her, the sooner we can be done with this absurd quest once and for all."

"Wait. What about..." Cassandra jerked her head over at Yun-seong, congratulating Talim out of earshot.

All eyes were on Mi-na.

"What, like he's my responsibility or something?" Mi-na grumbled.

"Well, he's your friend, but his objective conflicts with ours. We just want to consider what you feel." Sophitia said.

"I feel that he's a stupid idiot." Mi-na said. "If he tries anything funny I'll kick his ass back to Korea. Actually, no matter what happens I'll still be dragging his sorry butt back home whether he's willing or not."

"It's better to avoid a fight." Setsuka said. "Instead of announcing it while he's present, maybe you could take him home now?"

"_What?!_ And leave? But then I would miss it when the Embrace gets purified! I have to miss the big event I've been waiting for because of Yun-seong?! No fair!"

"We all have to make sacrifices." Taki said sternly.

Mi-na growled loudly. "...Okay, okay! I'll deal with him." Mi-na said. "I'll take Yun-seong home, and then you can try purifying the Embrace so – "

"I heard my name, what's goin' on? Am I in trouble? What's the Embrace? Is it some kind of big group hug, is that why you're all huddled over here like this?"

The entire group winced in unison.

"...Uh...Yun-seong...the 'Embrace'...is..." Mi-na stammered as she tried to manufacture a convincing lie.

Yun-seong raised a finger. "No use trying to trick me. I KNOW you're hiding something. And it has to do with Soul Edge, doesn't it?"

The group sighed and shifted their positions uncomfortably.

"...I didn't come all this way to find the solution to our problem, just to be stopped by THIS cretin!" Ivy said, grabbing the hilt of her snake sword. "I have no compunction with using whatever force is required to incapacitate this fool!"

Yun-seong leapt back and grabbed his own sword to defend himself, Mi-na grabbed his arm to stop him and take back the heirloom he was using as a weapon, while several females on Siegfried's team tried unsuccessfully to hold down Ivy.

"Stop! Don't fight!"

Talim's voice put a stop to the potential brawl, and the others sheathed their weapons and composed themselves.

"What's going on here? What's wrong? What are all of you getting so mad about?" Talim asked with her hands on her hips, looking much like an adult scolding a group of misbehaving children.

With a heavy THUNK, the satchel holding the Embrace fell to the ground. Siegfried pulled the knot binding the sack shut, and the faded brown burlap fell away to reveal a wretched almagation of flesh and crystal.

"This is the Soul Embrace." He began. "It is the fusion of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. Calibur is the counterpart of Edge, another blade of equal but opposite energy. These two blades are locked in a stalemate, each kept in check by one another's power. In this form, they are indestructible. Only by introducing enough energy to cause an imbalance could one sword overpower the other and break the Embrace, returning Soul Edge and Soul Calibur to the world.

"We have tried countless methods to destroy the blades in this form, and nothing has worked. We have seen the blades separated once, but were not in a position to destroy Soul Edge at the time, and were forced to rejoin the blades. We have fought many enemies who have sought the blades from us, and suffered many hardships and losses as a result of this."

Siegfried pointed toward Talim. "You have shown the ability to remove the influence of Soul Edge from a person, and possess the power to direct a flow of energy according to your wishes. You may hold the key to breaking this stalemate in a favorable way. If you channel enough pure energy into the Soul Embrace, or channel enough evil energy out of it, the result would be a more powerful Calibur or a weaker Edge, which could allow us to finally separate the two blades and annihilate Soul Edge, or perhaps purify it instead."

Siegfried glanced down at the jumbled heap of gems and meat on the ground before him. "This is the weapon that has caused the hardships that you have endured until today. This is the weapon that we have traveled across a continent to destroy. This is the weapon that we have spent the last year of our lives seeking to obliterate. The annihilation of this weapon will remove the threat of Soul Edge from the world forever. Talim – will you help us? Will you purify this sword?"

Talim stood as still as a statue, staring wide-eyed at the sword standing upright in the ground before her. She recognized one half of it – the sword from her vision. The other half of it sent shivers down her spine, and instilled her with an impulse to run as far away from it as possible.

"...You were keeping this from me?" Talim asked.

"...There was never a reason to share the information until now." Siegfried said. "It would only have complicated things before."

Talim was silent, then nodded. "...So...you need an influx of holy energy? That I can manage. You wish to see it purified? If all it requires is the same procedure as before, then I can do it. ...Within this object...I sense that it contains untold amounts of energy, more energy than exists within a thousand people...I'm not sure..."

Talim calmly lowered herself to the ground, sat cross-legged, and looked gravely at the Soul Embrace, as though she was staring down a beast that threatened to attack her at any moment.

"...I'm not sure..." She repeated. "It would be on a far larger scale than before...I had no problem with these two purifications...but I...although I feel more pure than ever before, but I am weary. The ritual requires much exertion...I need to rest before I undertake something that will certainly require all of my strength. And I must consult the winds. I must ask the winds to give me the strength to do this."

Talim closed her eyes. "Give me a little time. One night. Allow me to sleep for the rest of the night. Tomorrow morning I will prepare, and at noon I should be ready."

The others nodded in consent...all of them except for one.

"Man, I am really at a disadvantage here..." Yun-seong said, scratching the back of his head. "There it is, right in front of me...but they're gonna destroy it in half a day! Dammit, I was so close this whole time? Aw, come on..."

All eyes were on Yun-seong, except for Talim, who was staring down her new mortal enemy.

"Is that really it?" Yun-seong muttered. "Soul Edge? Sitting right _there_? Man, it's a lot different than I imagined."

"It's the Soul Embrace, really." Mi-na corrected.

"Embrace, Edge, same thing right? Wait, didn't you say there's a 'Soul Calibur' somewhere in that fleshy mess? The Calibur thing is good, right? No complications, no problems about it being evil or anything? So, could I just have that sword?"

Siegfried shook his head sternly. "The Soul weapons are too powerful for any one man to be trusted with. In the wrong hands, any weapon could cause harm, regardless of its spiritual alignment."

"And what makes you think I'm 'the wrong hands', huh?" Yun-seong asked furiously.

"...Have you even taken a look at yourself lately?" Ivy asked. "You're a brash, foolhardy, hotheaded, impatient, nose-picking cretin."

"No I'm not!" Yun-seong said, pulling his finger out of his nostril.

"We will never entrust anything to YOU." Ivy said. "Soul Edge will be destroyed tomorrow, and Soul Calibur, despite its alignment, is a liability as well. We will dispose of it too."

"Awwwww maaaaan!" Yun-seong began pacing in circles, his hands on his head, looking as though he might start crying any moment.

"Come on, Yun-seong." Mi-na said. "Let's all go back to the house and have a nice long chat, mmm'k?"

"Nooooo..." Yun-seong said, even as he was dragged toward the watermill. Siegfried wrapped up the Embrace, and the other women followed Seong Mi-na to contribute their own reasons why Yun-seong's quest was misguided. Talim, after receiving many words of thanks and appreciation from Ashur, went to bed.

"...This will not do." Zasalamel noted from several hundred feet above the watermill.

--

Yun-seong idly dangled his legs off of the roof of the watermill. He'd never been scolded like that before in his life. He got an earful from every one of Mi-na's friends about every single reason Soul Edge was bad and every single reason why he was dead wrong. After several hours, they finally let him go once he pretended to agree with them. He knew that they still didn't trust him. Their creepy Japanese ninja was watching him at that very moment – just sitting perched in a tree, spying on him, making sure he didn't do anything they didn't want him to. He hated being under surveillance like that, but then again, he couldn't blame these people. They'd spent a whole year of their lives trying to destroy that sword, and many more years than that suffering because of it. He also didn't blame them for wanting to destroy it...and after listening to their speeches, he was starting to feel convinced that the sword was bad news after all. Ten people couldn't ALL be wrong about the sword, could they? Yun-seong felt so stupid...if his quest was all for nothing, then what had he been doing for the past few years? A pointless journey? It was a waste of his life! He didn't want to return home shamed and empty handed. Maybe he'd just run away...no. He couldn't do that. His nation was in peril, and he had to protect the people from harm. He had to be a hero. He had to have renown. And Soul Edge could give that to him! ...Maybe? Probably not...

Yun-seong sighed, and started thinking less about using the sword and more about how he'd make up for his mistakes. He unsheathed his sword, and looked at the blade to see what kind of reflection it would show him. A power-hungry demon? A nose-picking cretin? A moor with a golden eyeball?

...Wait a second.

As Yun-seong gazed into the reflection of the blade, he saw someone standing behind him, looking over his shoulder. A dark-skinned man with white robes and a single, golden eye. Yun-seong yelped in surprise and fear, jumped up, whirled around, and swung his sword at the intruder. His sword collided with a blade – a scythe held by the white-robed man, and the impact knocked the sword out of his hands. Yun-seong screamed, stumbled backward, and nearly fell off the roof of the watermill. After he regained his balance, he got a better look at the man. The others had described a man like this – he was their enemy! This was that Zazalala guy! He turned toward the ninja, and screamed. "HELP! IT'S ZALAZALA! HEEEEELP!"

"It's no use. No one can hear you. The ninja sees an illusion."

The man's voice was deep, commanding, and irritatingly confident. Yun-seong was no coward, and in fact often took on challenges too great for him to face, but the sight of this tall and imposing figure robbed him of every last ounce of courage he had. "Wh-wh-what do you want?!" He stuttered.

"Relax, Hong Yun-seong." Zasalamel said comfortingly. "I am not here to hurt you. I am here to help you."

Yun-seong thrust an accusational finger at Zasalamel. "They told me that everything you say is a lie! They said all you do is manipulate people!"

"I do whatever serves my interests best." Zasalamel said calmly. "And tonight, opening your eyes serves me quite well."

"Opening my eyes? Opening them to what?"

"The others were wrong, Yun-seong." Zasalamel said smoothly. "It is possible to wield the sword without falling under its influence."

Yun-seong peered at Zasalamel. "...I don't believe you."

"Do you recall the story that Siegfried told you about the origin of Soul Calibur?" Zasalamel asked. "An ancient King forged it in order to slay his son, who had been driven mad by Soul Edge..."

"Okay, yeah, you just said right there that Soul Edge drives people crazy. You are not doing a good job so far of convincing me otherwise."

"...But the King himself rose to power because he alone could control Soul Edge with the sheer force of his willpower."

"Oh yeah...that's how the story went..."

"I knew this man, Yun-seong. Algol was the one who instructed my tribe to guard Soul Calibur..."

"What? Wasn't that hundreds of years ago? How old ARE you?"

"...And I see much of King Algol in you, Hong Yun-seong."

"...Haaa?"

"The King was once an individual exactly like yourself...I'd say he was hardly different at all. Called brash and foolhardy by his peers, he attested his worth once and for all when he proved his ability to control the sword. He became the greatest man of all men, and united the known world during his reign..."

"Well...that's what Siegfried said...but am I really similar to this King?"

"Identical." Zasalamel assured. "If you require proof, consult the White Storm."

Yun-seong looked down at his sword, its blade digging into the roof of the watermill. He plucked it out and raised it up. The moonlight shined down and reflected his face back at him. As he gazed at the reflection, he slowly started to see a different face. A shaggy mane of white hair, a long scar running from hairline to chin, piercing eyes with irises the color of silver, elaborate golden armor made of scales and feathers and animal pelts...The man was sitting on a throne, casual, calm, confident, legions of followers at his feet, with branching kingdoms extending from horizon to horizon...the man rose from his throne, and held a sword aloft – it was Soul Edge, an ancient incarnation of it, but undeniably the same blade...He wielded the sword yet, did not fall prey to any kind of malevolent influence...

...The man's face appeared to be gradually changing. Yun-seong peered closer – and beheld a new face adorning the man's head. It was him – it was his own face – he was the King ruling the entire known world, he was the King loved, respected, and feared by his thousands of followers, he was the King who could hold Soul Edge without any consequence...and as Yun-seong gazed upon the lands surrounding his throne, he saw Korea, peaceful and secure, and all of the lands that once threatened Korea, scorched black and burned to ashes, and all of the lands he had ever traveled to as part of his dominion. Bowing at his feet were Seong Han-myeong, his mentor, Hwang Seong-gyeong, his idol, and even Seong Mi-na.

"Do you see now? Do you see what awaits you once you claim the sword?"

"...Yes." Yun-seong whispered breathlessly, captivated by the fantastic images within the blade.

"Tomorrow, I will grant you the opportunity to take the sword for yourself. When this opportunity arises, do not fail to claim it. It will be your only chance to have all of this glory and more."

"Yes..." Yun-seong repeated, only half listening.

"Good..." Zasalamel said coolly. He faded away, leaving Yun-seong sitting on the rooftop in the same position he had been before, holding up the White Storm just as he had done previously. As Zasalamel lowered the illusion he had cast, the scene was no different than it had been before he arrived. The only difference was the curse that Zasalamel had placed on the White Storm, and no one would notice that until it was too late.

--

It was difficult for anyone to sleep well that night. Evenings were never easy for Siegfried, nor the women who accompanied him. However, tonight it was not feelings of strife and hopelessness that kept them awake, but feelings of eagerness and anticipation. They were too excited to sleep, too anxious to see what events tomorrow would bring. It seemed very possible that the conclusion of their harrowing journey was near, and for the weary, over-traveled warriors, tomorrow could not come soon enough.

None of them had imagined that the tiny girl wearing silly garments would turn out to be their savior. Had they passed up the watermill village, chosen to end Ashur's life out of mercy, or chosen to depart from the village, they would never have discovered that Talim held the ability to purify the energy of Soul Edge and dispel its influence. Talim had humbly denied any praise they had given her, insisting that it was the wind that deserved their thanks, but the compassion and determination of the girl was still remarkable.

They tried to keep in mind the fact that the ritual might not work. They tried to remind themselves that they had no way of knowing whether or not Talim's technique would affect the Soul Embrace. However, after seeing her twin miracles earlier that day, and knowing that it was possible for energy to move in and out of the Embrace, they saw little reason to feel doubt.

In the event that Talim did not succeed, it was possible for any number of things to go wrong. She might become possessed by Soul Edge as soon as it was freed from the Embrace. She might be killed by such an extreme flow of energy. She might fall prey to any number of other risks that the group was unaware of. But regardless of the risks, they still had to try. They were ready to take any risk, as long as the possible reward was the end of this increasingly futile journey. They hated having to put Talim's life in danger, but the selfless girl had already volunteered to undertake this dangerous task. She knew the risks, just as she had with Ashur. She would go to any length to exorcise evil and save lives.

If the ritual was a success – then what? Then, in less than a day, their adventure would come to an end, and they would be free of the responsibilities that had plagued them for so long. They could return home, they could return to their new lives, or even forge new lives. Before then, however, there would still be loose ends – Soul Calibur, for one. The sword, despite being imbued with holy energy, was too powerful a weapon to keep in existence. It could be disposed of by exorcising its holy energy, but not before Siegfried had used the blade to defeat Nightmare. After the will of the sword had been annihilated once and for all, the only remainder of it in the world would be a handful of shards scattered across the globe, not even enough to form a new Soul Blade if combined. Certainly not a threat worth pursuing. As soon as Nightmare was defeated and the Soul weapons were disposed of, the weary warriors could rest at last.

Slaying Nightmare and disposing of the blades would not be easy, but were more straightforward tasks than the ambiguous journey they had followed so far. They could tolerate dealing with further responsibilities as long as this chapter of their lives could finally be put behind them.

But only if Talim succeeded tomorrow.

--

"Yun-seong."

The red-haired man showed no signs of having heard Mi-na say his name. He had spent the entire morning sitting motionless on his bed, holding the White Storm, staring vapidly into its blade. He was as still and lifeless as a statue, and the others feared what kind of trance the White Storm might have put him into - but whether it had hypnotized him or simply fascinated him, they did not want to risk snapping him out of his funk. As long as he was preoccupied, they were safe, and so they let him be.

"Yun-seong!" Mi-na repeated, irritated that her friend was ignoring her.

"What." Yun-seong replied in the same insipid tone of voice he had used earlier when he denied her offer for breakfast.

"Nevermind." She said, rolling her eyes and exiting the room. There was no use in telling Yun-seong that Talim was about to begin her ritual – it might only set him off, and interference from Yun-seong was the last thing anyone wanted. She placed a chair against the handle of the door to keep it shut. Yun-seong was closer to her than a brother, and she did not wish to trap him in a room, but she could not trust him, either – especially when acting so bewitched and entranced.

"No need to bother." Seung Mi-na said to Taki. "He's not going anywhere."

"I'm standing guard, anyway." Taki replied.

"You're going to miss the ritual?"

"We all have to make sacrifices." Taki repeated. She was no hypocrite and not exempt from her own rules. Although Mi-na was severely untrusting of the Japanese by nature, she had come to respect this ninja, even though she suspected that Taki disliked her.

Mi-na made her way out of the watermill and out onto the grassy lawn outside where Siegfried had placed the Embrace. It stood upright, its tip plunged into the ground, facing Talim, who stared down the Embrace with just as much conviction as she had the previous evening. Surrounding Talim and the Embrace on every side were Siegfried and all of his cohorts. Ashur and the other children had been asked to go play in the village, to protect them from a potential fallout of energy should the ritual go awry. No one knew exactly what was going to happen, considering that such immense amounts of energy were being dealt with – but everyone had faith in Talim's abilities.

Talim looked skyward, and closed her eyes. The air above began to swirl, and the howling of the wind was soon heard. The clouds above began to move at an unnaturally rapid pace, and slowly began to convene in one location in the sky directly above Talim. The clouds swirled, taking on the spiral shape indicative of a tornado, yet the sky was too calm to perceive it as a storm.

Zasalamel waited patiently.

"The wind is ready. I am ready, as well." Talim said. She stepped forward and approached the Embrace, which was roughly the same height as the short Filipina girl. She took a deep breath, and then wrapped her arms around the mangled, deformed mass that represented the two swords. She shut her eyes tight, and began to concentrate. The wind picked up speed.

Zasalamel manifested within the watermill.

The others standing around Talim and the Embrace began to feel powerful gusts of wind as Talim funneled the wind down toward the Embrace. She began to open up the spiritual boundary that kept her spirit confined within her body, and at the same time called upon the wind to channel pure energy from the sky and water nearby into the Embrace. The Embrace began to stir, and its crystals took on a brighter sheen. The flesh of the Embrace seemed to rot and shrink away.

Zasalamel looked down at Yun-seong, still transfixed by the White Storm. "Your opportunity will soon be at hand." Zasalamel said, before the door to Yun-seong's room exploded and a furious ninja at leapt him through a cloud of smoke. Zasalamel caught Taki's neck with the blade of his scythe – only failing to decapitate her because of the neck guard that Taki wore – and pulled hard, sending the ninja flying through a wall and outside of the watermill. Then he raised his scythe and slammed it down hard on the floor of the room.

Every instance of wooden paneling in the house rotted instantly. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the doors, even the furniture aged rapidly. The watermill lost all structural integrity within moments, and began to collapse. The swirling wind outside of the building picked up the chunks of rotting wood that fell free, and pieces of the watermill were sent spiraling about in every direction. Within moments, what was once a home became a cyclone of dangerous wooden projectiles.

Zasalamel vanished, Yun-seong dropped down to the ground harmlessly, and began running straight at the Embrace without hesitating for a single moment. The startled warriors were caught off guard by the wooden shards that that now whipped through the air around them, and noticed Yun-seong too late to stop him.

Just as Talim poured enough holy energy into the Embrace to break the stalemate and separate the two swords, Yun-seong reached her position, grabbed the hilt of Soul Edge, and yanked it out of the grasp of the holy sword. Talim was knocked to the ground by the release of energy that resulted from the separation of the two blades, and the ritual came to an immediate stop. The wind disappeared, the air became still, the remnants of the watermill ceased to fly through the air, and numerous eyes landed on Yun-seong.

Yun-seong began to laugh, a wicked laugh, a sinful laugh, a laugh that caused pain to the ears. "At last! At LAST!" He crowed. "Soul Edge! It's MINE!"

The blade warped and contorted in his hands, transforming to find a form that best suited its wielder, as was its nature. By the time Seung Mi-na had reached Yun-seong and swung her Zanbatou at his head, Soul Edge had already become a Gao that blocked her attack effortlessly.

Seung Mi-na did not relent because her blow had been deflected, and instantly followed up with another strike, and yet another each time Yun-seong parried. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?" She screamed even as she assaulted him. "AFTER EVERYTHING WE TOLD YOU!"

Yun-seong swung his demonic blade violently, and just the impact of his sword against Seong Mi-na's weapon sent her flying back and away from him. "I can wield Soul Edge without being affected by it!" He shouted. "The White Storm showed me a vision...I will become a king and lead our homeland to prosperity!"

The others paid no heed to his words. In a span of mere moments, Yun-seong was forced to deflect a Zweihänder, a snake sword, an iai, a ninjato, a rapier, throwing daggers, and various other weapons. He swung his sword in an arc, releasing a wave of energy that scattered the plethora of foes assailing him from all sides.

"I don't want to see the people that I love suffering anymore! I will use this weapon to protect my country! I will kill anyone who threatens my people! If you stand in my way, you're preventing me from protecting others! That makes you my enemy! Stand in my way and you'll be the first victim!"

Yun-seong's persona was warping almost visually. It was obvious that the influence of the sword had already taken over his mind. A group of panicked, horrified warriors circled him like a pack of wolves, occasionally lashing out and attempting to strike him, only to be knocked away. Soul Calibur lay at Yun-seong's feet, out of the reach of any who might attempt to grab it – all but one person whom Yun-seong had failed to account for.

A blast of wind swept down and shoved Yun-seong to the ground. He leapt to his feet in time to deflect the blows of his many assailants and send them flying, but not in time to stop Talim from grasping Soul Calibur.

Talim gripped the holy sword with both hands, and the sword split in two as she did. It renovated itself just as Soul Edge had, taking the form of two tonfa.

Yun-seong howled in laughter. "What a JOKE! I was afraid someone POWERFUL was going to get Soul Calibur! I couldn't have asked for a better turn of events!"

Talim was the most compassionate person that any of the warriors present had ever encountered. She out-performed Siegfried in pacifism, and valued the lives of others above even her own. The others had observed the blades that Talim carried with her at all times, but had regarded them as mere ornaments, not true weapons. They had never suspected the girl to have any sort of formal weapons training.

Yet again, Talim proved them all wrong.

The little Asian girl beset Yun-seong with a blindingly fast flurry of attacks, swinging the shafts of her crystalline tonfa back and forth inhumanly fast. Gusts of wind backed her every move, giving her superhuman speed unlike anything the others had ever witnessed. Only through the superhuman strength and agility that Soul Edge granted its wielders was Yun-seong able to react in time to block the girl's blows and endure the attacks he could not evade. It was unclear how much of Talim's combat prowess was natural, and how much was a result of Soul Edge augmenting her existing capabilities, but regardless of that, the two combatants seemed evenly matched. Each time one of the Soul weapons clashed against its brother, there was a sound like lightning and a shockwave almost powerful enough to knock down the warriors witnessing the event. And yet, Zasalamel noted, the energy released with each attack was nowhere near the maximum potential that would be seen if more suitable warriors were wielding the weapons.

Talim used her tonfa blades creatively and unconventionally, using the shaft as both a weapon and a shield, and using the handle as a hook to catch Yun-seong's gao when he attempted to strike her. She frequently twirled her tonfa by the handles – a technique which appeared to be just for show, but in fact allowed Talim to impart large amounts of momentum to her attacks. She switched between different grips at high speed, mixing up her strategy to catch Yun-seong off guard at almost every opportunity.

Gashes and scars began to appear across Yun-seong's body, and his blood began to fly furiously, yet Yun-seong showed no signs of pain. Soul Edge had removed the concept of agony from his mind, and had given him the willpower and arrogance to endure any injury. He finally stopped attempting to block or evade Talim's attacks, and allowed her to strike him freely, caring not what damage he sustained. Instead, he concentrated on counterattacking, launching a flurry of attacks to match Talim's own, and aimed exclusively for heavy, hard-hitting blows.

Talim was swift, but she was not untouchable. While she could dole out attacks at a breakneck pace, her attacks were weak and did little actual damage to her adversary. She could dodge any attack that he threw at her, but only if she ceased her assault to concentrate on evading. Despite her speed and the fact that she was wielding the superior weapon, she would be unable to damage him with her level of power. Now that Yun-seong was attacking back, she was powerless to do anything but evade his attacks lest she receive a blow that she would surely be unable to sustain. The two had entered a stalemate.

Talim had to think quickly, before Yun-seong landed a fatal blow. A fatal blow...the answer came to her. It was a tragic solution, but it stood a chance of success. She didn't have time to weigh every option or consider all of her choices. She had to act before it was too late.

Talim leapt back and away from Yun-seong, then called forth a powerful gust of wind that sent her flying through the air straight at him. Yun-seong grinned - if the girl did not change course, all he had to do now was aim correctly and he would land a mortal blow on the foolish girl. He held Soul Edge back and prepared to thrust it forward.

Talim called forth another gust of wind – not to change her course, but to channel holy energy out of Soul Calibur. Using the same technique as before, she quickly flushed a great deal of holy energy out of the sword, until its energy was roughly equivalent to that of Soul Edge.

Talim continued her course forward through the air until she reached Yun-seong, who thrust Soul Edge forward into Talim's abdomen, impaling her. At the same time, Talim swung the twin blades of Soul Calibur downward into Soul Edge, impaling the blade twice over. The two swords fell silent immediately, ceased to radiate their energy, and became as dormant as they had been just a few minutes before.

Soul Edge's influence over Yun-seong was lifted immediately. He gazed down at the little girl who was impaled on the end of the sword he held, and let go of the Embrace immediately. He stumbled backward, his body trembling and his lips quivering.

"...No..." He whispered soundlessly. "No. No, no!" His mantra grew louder. "No no no no NO!" He walked backward, away from the grisly scene before him, away from the growing pool of crimson that threatened to bloody his feet as much as his hands. "What have I done? What have I done?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

Yun-seong put his back to the girl's corpse, and began to run. He didn't know if anyone was chasing him, and he didn't care – he just wanted to be as far away as possible from what he had done.

"I killed her. I killed her. I killed her."

Yun-seong continued to flee, his entire world consisting of nothing but the path in front of him and the dead girl behind him. He ran far away from the river, far away from the watermill village, far away from the valley. He lost track of time and distance, only concentrating on the singular focus of running away from his crime.

The others did not give chase. They possessed the incentive, but could tell that the young man had finally come to his senses, and knew that would pay for his crimes in guilt and remorse.

The Soul Embrace was removed from Talim's body, and she was covered with a blanket as soon as possible; none present could bear to look at what had become of that kindhearted and courageous girl. They didn't want to see her this way, disemboweled, covered in her own blood, permanently wearing an expression of utmost agony on her face. They wanted to remember her as she had been, but no matter how hard they tried, none of them could stop picturing the look of horror and pain on her face, even after she was covered.

They had all seen death before, but they had seen few losses as shameful as this one. They chose to speak no words – there was nothing to say about Talim that they had not already said amongst themselves, nothing to say that was not already more than obvious from her actions over the past few days. They had scarcely known her, yet such a young girl had accumulated more of their respect in one week than had some adults.

Siegfried and the others somberly dug a grave for Talim, having nothing else that they could do for her. They buried her near a cliff overlooking the valley, and etched what they hoped was a fitting inscription upon her gravestone. The more sentimental women of the group were too emotional to speak, but the more stoic members of the group attempted to deliver a respectable eulogy. They told Ashur and the other children that the watermill collapsed because Talim failed in her ritual, and that she and Yun-seong had left for a far away land to find something important.

The group was in no shape to continue their journey just yet. They spent the rest of the day at the watermill village, ruminating over this catastrophe, stewing in resentment for Yun-seong.

"It's such a pity." Siegfried said with a heavy sigh. "If only we had conducted the ritual further away from that rickety old watermill..."

"Yun-seong." Mi-na spat, her words dripping with venom. "I'll never forgive you..."

"No." Taki said. "There's more to it than that. Zasalamel was there."

"Zasalamel?!"

"I heard his voice in Yun-seong's room." Taki began. "I investigated and attacked him, but he...evaded me. I was thrown clear of the house and was about to counterattack when it split apart."

"Zasalamel...in Yun-seong's room, before he attacked..." Sophitia mused.

"I'll bet he bewitched Yun-seong!" Cassandra said. "Or at least influenced him. Built upon the desires that already existed in him...maybe he's not really the one that's to blame here."

"Bewitched..." Mi-na muttered. "The White Storm..."

Mi-na ran over to the wreckage of the watermill, and retrieved the White Storm. She gazed into its reflection, and gasped. She hurried back to the others, and showed them the blade.

"Tell me! What do you see in this blade?"

The others took turns holding the blade and gazing into its reflection. They each saw something different, but few of them wished to announce what they saw within the blade – and those who did speak may have been lying.

"I see myself, and...my father..." Siegfried muttered. "He is...happy. Smiling at me. His arm is around my shoulder..."

"I see my family." Sophitia reported. "We're living happily together. We're all safe. There is no danger. Nothing to fear."

"I thought so..." Mi-na said. "Previously, the sword would reflect what is in your soul. Now it appears to reflect what you wish for the most."

Taki took the blade in her hand. "It is cursed." She said. "I could not sense it before, but now that I hold it, I can feel it. It reeks of that man. This is his doing."

"Zasalamel..." Siegfried growled. "No matter how much progress we make...no matter how close we get...he'll put us back on the path he wants us to be on. We'll walk whatever road he wishes us to walk..."

"All of it for nothing!" Ivy spat. "We were right there – it was going to work! It was all going to end, and now everything is ruined and the only one who had the power to help us is dead! That filthy moor!"

"What is the point of this mission?" Setsuka asked. "What is the meaning of our journey if we're all working for that man, whether or not we know it, whether or not we want to?"

"If he wants us to walk a certain path...then we walk it." Siegfried said grimly.

"Why?" Taki asked. "Why bow to his will?"

"Obviously, Zasalamel has a purpose that he is working towards." Siegfried said. "The only way to see an end to our journey is to fulfill the purpose. If his road is the only one he will allow us to walk, then his end is the only one we can reach. Otherwise, we will merely be struggling against a power that can shatter everything we've worked for in an instant."

"So you just want us to accept the fact that we're all pawns working for Zasalamel?" Ivy asked.

"I don't ask anyone to accept it. But, if we don't cooperate..." Siegfried gazed toward Talim's grave. "...we will pay for it."

"If Zasalamel is so powerful, why doesn't he just take the Embrace from us?" Cassandra asked. "If he's not going to let us do anything he doesn't want us to do, then why doesn't he just tell us what to do?"

"His ultimate goal must require very specific conditions. I presume that if we were aware of the circumstances, they might not take place. He requires our ignorance." Siegfried theorized.

"So we just have to blindly stumble along, HOPING we don't make the wrong decision?" Ivy growled. She threw her snake sword to the ground, pointed her finger skyward, and screamed at the clouds. "ZASALAMEL! I know you can hear me! Tell us what you want from us, or leave us alone!"

There was no reply.

"Zasalamel never intervenes directly." Taki observed. She was kneeling where Talim and Yun-seong had fought, inspecting a piece of metal. She picked it up and slid it into an empty sheath on her person – the object fit perfectly. Taki had finally retrieved the Rekki-maru. Long wedged within the Embrace, it had been sapped of all energy, reduced to a mere hunk of metal...but it had fallen out of the Embrace when the swords separated. "He'll guide us with his unseen hand. We'll know what direction to move in. He'll make sure of it. And we'll never know he had a hand in it."

The others stewed bitterly for the rest of the day, cursing Zasalamel and his ways. The following day they once again felt ready to travel, but were unsure of where their next destination would be.

"...I have an announcement to make." Mi-na said suddenly. "I'm leaving. I'm going to go after Yun-seong."

"Why?" Setsuka asked. "Do you seek revenge?"

Mi-na shook her head. "I'm worried about him. I don't know whether Zasalamel completely bewitched him, or whether that man only provided a light push to set an avalanche in motion...but I still care about Yun-seong. He's not mature enough to handle everything that's happened. He's only going to cause further harm, to himself or to others, in his current state. I'm going to find him and help him...one way or another."

The others were sad to see Mi-na go, even the ones who had not become very well acquainted with her. Although she was a quirky girl, her heart was always in the right place, and she had been a valued companion and fighter. Siegfried and his companions said their farewells, imparted her with advice, and wished her the best of luck on her search – and then Mi-na left in the direction that Yun-seong had fled.

Attention once again turned to the matter of their next objective.

"...Um..." Sophitia said timidly. "Athens...my homeland is not too far from this region. We could reach it in a short time. ...I...I miss my family. I want to see them again..."

"Nothing better to do." Ivy grumbled. "Why not let a family reunion take precedence over our mission? We have no idea how to proceed anyway. Off to Athens we go." She concluded with mock enthusiasm.

"...What about Amy?" Cassandra asked. "She is no longer cursed. Does she still need to travel with us?"

All eyes turned to the wallflower of the group. Either part of the background or absent altogether, it was often easy to forget that Amy was there at all.

"She doesn't speak the language of this region." Setsuka said. "It would be cruel to leave her here, stranded in a land like this."

Amy breathed a soft sigh of relief.

"Then we will travel to Athens, and after that, to France." Siegfried announced, to Amy's slight discomfort.

It felt good to indulge their own interests for once, rather than to endlessly march toward whatever destination showed them the largest sliver of hope. Reuniting Sophitia with her family, finding a home for Amy...these were much more appealing prospects than adhering to their futile journey.

And yet, as pleasant as their new objectives appeared to be, no shortage of conflict awaited them...


	52. Visions of Finality

It was dark, and it was raining. The rain was an annoyance, as it made the paved streets slick, but the darkness was a blessing in disguise, for it obscured the massacred bodies lying strewn about. It wasn't the first time they had seen this kind of carnage, and not a single one of them doubted that it would be the last.

No matter how much time had passed since Siegfried had been under the control of the wicked sword, his memories of that time became no less vivid. Grisly scenes like the one before him now never ceased to dredge up horrible visions from his past, and the only thing that prevented him from being immobilized by the weight of his conscience was the urge to press onward to find and destroy the vile creature that had murdered so many.

Siegfried tried to convince himself not to feel guilt for the crimes that Nightmare had used his body to commit. He tried to remind himself that Nightmare was a separate existence from his own...but he was guilty of more crimes than slaying the innocent. His memories of Tira, the woman he had taken in and loved and cared for – and used and mistreated – were a constant reminder of his personal failures and his recklessness. He cast a glance over to his left, and saw Sophitia's expression harden. She hadn't shed any tears over the dead in more than four years, but Siegfried knew it was still a difficult sight for her.

Taki was examining the damage, the former trying to detect and purify any lingering traces of evil energy. Amy, walking off a little to Taki's right, paid the dead no heed. Eternally quiet and unaffected by both sights and words, the girl seemed to be devoid of a heart or a soul...and yet, he could not resent her demeanor. She was one of the only companions he had left.

Setsuka had been the first, five years ago. Nightmare had cut her down effortlessly, right in front of Siegfried's eyes. Tira had been standing patiently to side, ready to kill her former master at a moment's notice. In that moment, when Setsuka perished and Tira displayed no regret or remorse, he knew he had lost her forever. He hoped Setsuka's soul hadn't been consumed by the abomination, but as the years had passed he found it easier to forget her than to mourn her.

Ivy had been next, destroyed by her own hand as she flung every last explosive she could think of at Zasalamel, and the one-eyed knight put up a barrier she could not break. It was almost a fitting end – Ivy, in her fury and wrath, had blown herself apart in an attempt to free herself from slavery to Zasalamel's will. Taki extracted the fragments of Soul Edge from her Ivy Blade and purified them, grafting them back into the Soul Embrace.

Cassandra's death probably hit hardest, and Sophitia in particular had been permanently changed after the fact. The girl had come to the aid of her comrades and been struck down by Nightmare. She died of simple blood loss, as her cursed wounds could not be completely purified or even shut. Sophitia's compassion vanished the day her sister died, her warmth permanently replaced by a thirst for vengeance, hidden beneath a calm exterior.

Slung over Siegfried's back was not the Requiem, shattered years ago, but the reactivated Soul Calibur, still functioning, but smaller and paler than ever before. It was especially pitiful when contrasted with the gigantic monstrosity covered in mouths and eyes called Soul Edge, now twice its former size and residing in Nightmare's deformed claw of a hand.

More even than the deaths of his comrades, the loss and subsequent increase in power of Soul Edge had dealt the fiercest, most painful blow. Even Zasalamel had been struck down before the might of Nightmare, unable to achieve whatever goal he had once sought. The power that Soul Edge absorbed from Zasalamel infused Soul Edge and its wielder with nearly godlike strength that only grew as he continued his endless massacre.

They had not heard from their allies – Kilik, Maxi, or Xianghua – for several months, and Siegfried and his company now feared the worst. He had no doubt that he was the only one who could challenge Nightmare now, and soon would come opportune time to do so.

Laced in bitterness, Siegfried's every day was an exercise in demonstrating his hate. He cut down whatever warriors Nightmare had created to face him, and he served lords in need of a strong mercenary – regardless of how morally questionable they may have been – if there was any chance of finding Nightmare or Tira.

It was fortunate that his enemies were incapable of begging for mercy, or he might've hesitated long enough for one to strike unnoticed. As they were unfeeling automatons, driven only by the cursed power of Soul Edge, Siegfried had no second thoughts about cutting them down. It wasn't the same as killing a normal human being, he tried to tell himself.

Taki told him it was foolish to maintain his vow of pacifism, but no matter how hypocritical he may have seemed once the blood started spraying, Siegfried believed it the one trace of his humanity he had left. After Tira's defection and Setsuka's death, he had given up all pretenses of his former ways.

He was now feared, respected, renowned for his savagery in battle. That he stood in opposition to the Azure Knight was Siegfried's greatest saving grace in the eyes of the world. Were he committing the same acts for any other reason, he'd have been perceived as a terrifying, unfeeling murderer.

In this town, however, all voices were silent. The only movement came from Siegfried and his three companions as they continued to walk and wander through the destruction, illuminated only by pale moonlight and a few flickering torches.

"We should try to find provisions, and then seek an inn." Taki suggested. "I don't think anyone in this town needs food or lodgings anymore."

"Agreed." Siegfried replied. "And take whatever currency they have left – we're running a little low."

His orders were simple and direct, and he never had need to carry out such menial tasks himself. He expected Sophitia, Taki, and Amy to do as he had instructed swiftly and without complaint, and he'd yet to be disappointed.

The moment Taki had suggested seeking refuge at an inn, Sophitia had turned her gaze towards Siegfried. He knew what was on her mind, and he couldn't object – it had been far too long since she'd come to share his bed, and separate rooms were certainly easier to go between than a close formation of tents.

As Amy, bent forth to examine the pockets of the dead, her clothing slid up and draped down, giving him a more pleasing view of her form. She had only recently provoked his lechery, as she'd grown into a astonishing beauty. Her hair was longer, her form more developed, and she was silent and obedient, not unlike Tira had once been. The sight of her both warmed and infuriated Siegfried – he wanted her, but every time he looked upon her, he could not help but see Tira.

--

After laying claim to their rooms and organizing a method of watch, Sophitia stepped into Siegfried's bedchamber. The two exchanged no words – they knew by this point their relationship was not simply for comfort but rather convenience. Neither truly loved the other, but reveled in the pleasure.

Sophitia had once scorned such desire, as she was content with matrimony and the blessings of her two children. After years of struggling against evil and seeing her loved ones vanish one after another, she allowed herself any indulgence she could think of to lessen the misery of her wretched life.

Siegfried's view was even more despondent. It was insane to even consider the possibility of destroying Nightmare at this point – he was a step below being a deity, if he did not qualify as a god already, and the only weapon that could harm him was a fragment of its former self. Siegfried expected that sooner or later he or his comrades would perish in the struggle against Nightmare. He was hopelessly addicted to these nocturnal acts, and enjoyed nothing else but this pleasure. It was the only joy he could derive from life anymore.

Yet, while Sophitia was an excellent lover and a good woman by any standard, Siegfried hungered for more. He didn't want to make love to the same woman every night – he wanted to extend his reach and fulfill his desires elsewhere.

He had been courting Amy – to what extent he could, given the circumstances and her personality – and he sensed that she was only a few long nights away from becoming his prey. He also felt that Taki would give in to him eventually – strong as a woman as she was, even she could detect the futility of their quest and sense her end drawing nearer. She felt the same natural desires as every other living being...it was only a matter of time.

Until then, Siegfried would settle for this…

--

Tira dropped onto the inn's rooftop, her breath the only sound she allowed to grace the air. A Watcher flapped above her, dropping a few feathers down as it circled.

Her purpose was simple enough – kill the fools seeking her Master's life. It would be only too pleasurable to kill Sophitia, and finish off the last remaining member of that family. The sight of that red-haired girl was a reminder of former weaknesses, and disposing of her would only prove her worth to her Master again. Defeating Taki would instill such pride in her Master...to kill two powerful warriors and offer their souls to the will of Soul Edge.

Tira dropped down to the nearest window, silent. She knew she'd have to hit Taki first, if she was to have any chance of getting to the others. Tira wasn't all that surprised to find the kunochi still awake, examining her small collection of weapons and sutras, experimenting with her considerable spiritual power.

Tira sacrificed her stealth for the sake of surprise and kicked the windowpane in, swinging in through her ringblade and landing easily between the shards. Taki reacted instantly, drawing the Rekki-Maru and clanging it against Tira's ringblade, hitting with enough force to release a few sparks.

"Demon." Taki spat.

"Self righteous bitch." Tira replied, and drew back, swinging the ringblade in wide arc. Taki drew back, but the cramped inn room wasn't the best place for her to take advantage of her agility, and she stumbled to the floor. Only a timely roll to her left saved Taki from being decapitated and kicking Tira aside.

"Traitor." Taki added, slashing with Rekki-Maru. Tira swerved to avoid contact, but the sheer air pressure left a gash in her cheek, much to the younger woman's fury.

"You're one to talk." Tira pointed out, before grinding her ringblade to the wooden floor and using it as a base to propel her light body around, kicking Taki back against the nearest wall. The force of the impact forced the Rekki-Maru from her hand.

Taki dropped down to grasp her weapon, and her neck fell right in Tira's sights. She opened her legs and wrapped them around Taki's throat. Taki drove the Rekki-Maru into Tira's leg and left a deep gash, but it was too late – Tira snapped her neck and the nukenin fell to the wooden floor, dead before she even realized what had happened.

Tira's breathing hitched and her leg had lost some function, but she had to keep moving. When Tira emerged from Taki's room into the hallway, she found Amy, her prized rapier already drawn, poised for combat.

"This is your only chance." Tira reminded. "This is your one and only chance to avenge the man you loved."

The creaking of the floor caught Tira's notice. She turned, ready to attack, only to find herself paralyzed by a familiar, entrancing gaze. Even now she couldn't bring herself to hate those pale blue eyes, and all desire to kill and harm faded when she saw him.

Siegfried delivered a swift blow to Tira's right cheek, slamming her against the nearest wall. She reacted instinctively, trying to bring the ringblade up to protect herself, only for Amy to drive her Albion into the loop of Tira's weapon and violently jerk it from her grasp, sending the ring-shaped blade flying to the side. Unarmed, Tira attempted to scramble away, but one look at Siegfried's eyes froze her in place once more.

Sophitia, hastily redressed, approached her lover and uttered quietly: "Siegfried – Taki is dead."

Siegfried grimaced in pain from the news, but the emotions on his face quickly turned from regret to anger.

Tira tried to glare at him, but she couldn't hold onto his gaze. When she saw Siegfried's eyes, all her hatred and malice evaporated. She hated herself for this weakness. She couldn't allow herself to be frozen like this if there was to be any hope of killing them and returning to her Master…

...for now, however, she needed to focus on survival. If she could not escape, she would need to buy herself time. Tira hung her head, refusing to look at her former Master. "You've captured me. I'm yours now. What will you do with me, 'Master'?"

Siegfried struck the side of her face again, drawing more blood from the cut upon her cheek. "Never call me that again, demon!" He spat. "I was a fool to have ever believed in you, after all you told me about yourself!"

Tira couldn't look at him, but she still had a retort. "Was I any less a fool for believing you would want and love only me?"

"I never loved you!" Siegfried replied flatly. "I was alone. I didn't even acknowledge what you truly were – a mistake that has cost me dearly."

Siegfried grasped Tira's shoulder and dragged her back into the hallway, not looking at her as he tugged. Amy and Sophitia were more than a little confused as they attempted to follow.

"Siegfried – " Sophitia began, but he raised a hand to silence her.

"I will take my vengeance first." Siegfried explained. "And then Amy may take hers." He tossed Tira into his room and shut the door behind him, concealing them from the others' sight.

Tira landed on her stomach, but landed comfortably atop the sheets, as Siegfried set down his blade and turned her over onto her back. Tira's malice faded once again, when she saw his gaze.

"Master." She whispered, almost reverently, unable to conceal the affection she had buried for so many years.

Siegfried drew himself upon her. Though the scent of blood found his nose, he ignored it – the feel of her flesh was the only thought on his mind; the warmth of her body, the pounding of her heart, the shape of her form, all the things that made her female and desirable to him.

She was quiet. He took her. She embraced him. She reciprocated his every gesture.

The night dragged on as Siegfried indulged himself. It was not until sunlight began to pierce the dull inn window that Siegfried was finally satiated. He lifted himself from Tira's prone, passive body, rummaged through his clothing until he found his belt, and used it to bind Tira's wrist to the bed.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way." Siegfried told the trembling woman lying before him. "This miserable journey is almost over. I promise you that we will see one another again...when I arrive in Hell."

Siegfried dressed himself, hearing not a word from Tira, but feeling her eyes on his form. As he opened the door to exit the room, Amy slithered inside immediately, Albion in hand. Siegfried left the room without turning back. He closed the door and allowed Amy to spend the next few hours indulging herself just as he had done.

Tira felt no fear. She wasn't afraid of what was about to happen to her. She knew that she deserved it, and had no right to feel remorse for herself.

--

Siegfried left without telling his comrades, as soon as he'd adorned his armor and eaten his trail rations, stepping past the empty town towards the abandoned clock tower on the hill, already the stone contorted by the evil power of Soul Edge, burnt black and sprouting strange, organic portions. Siegfried cut the unusual growths over the tower's wooden door and stepped in, the Soul Calibur illuminating the hollow tower, and particularly the immense wooden platform above him.

Siegfried found the staircase and began his ascent, detecting at once the foulness in the air, and saw flames illuminating the platform with a faint purple tint. It was a surefire sign he'd located the abomination.

Nightmare had not slept. It had been waiting, knowing full well that Siegfried would come alone, driven by anger and regret. He would deny that he sought to do battle, but Siegfried's heart would race with anticipation, and he would enjoy himself in the heat of a battle.

Nightmare looked stronger than ever, the Soul Edge even larger than his body now, shining with baneful light. Nightmare itself had changed too, as the blue armor had been further burnt, almost black, and portions of Nightmare's body were missing completely, composed of nothing but purple flame.

"Siegfried." Nightmare greeted, turning to confront the man. "Have you come to return your body to me?"

"Save your words." Siegfried declared, hoisting the Soul Calibur. "Just fight me."

"So be it." Nightmare agreed. "Give me your anger and your malice...give me all your strength, and fill me with the true power of your soul."

"Shut up." Siegfried instructed again, assuming his battle stance. Nightmare allowed itself one malicious chuckle that dripped with arrogance, and then extended both arms, allowing energy to circulate through its armored body and illuminate their battle site. Siegfried didn't allow this to distract him, and charged in, swinging a sword that immediately clanged against its counterpart.

Bits of the crystalline blade broke off, falling to the wooden floor alongside metal chunks of Soul Edge. The two wielders drew back and struck again, and Nightmare forced Siegfried back, the blonde man tumbling and rolling to get back to his feet.

Siegfried replied in kind and slashed, cutting deeply across Nightmare's midsection, only to watch as bits of dark azure armor harmlessly fell away, and the abomination laughed, slashing and cutting a deep gash in Siegfried's side.

The Soul Edge dealt cursed wounds that could never completely heal. The cut was already deep and would spread further along Siegfried's body, but he had to continue – he had to react and strike back. Siegfried aimed a stab upwards, striking Nightmare's face and driving the blade deep into the azure knight's chin. Nightmare howled in pain and drew back. Blood gushed out of Siegfried faster and faster, and he tackled Nightmare and flung both of them forward, right over the platform's edge.

They continued to slash at each other as they fell, into the darkness, illuminated only by Nightmare's energy and the sparks between their swords. Siegfried's vision grew hazier and Nightmare's laughter grew louder. The last thing he saw was the Soul Edge racing straight at his head...

--

Siegfried's eyes flew open, his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream, and his back arched painfully. Above him he saw the canopy of a tent, and as his back gave way he fell onto sweat-soaked sheets. The sun crept through the cracks in his tent flaps, attacking his eyes, and he buried his head underneath a pillow to escape it.

Yet he could still hear that horrible laughter.


	53. Family Reunion

Tira's memories of traveling with Siegfried were growing fainter by the day. Although a very short span of time had passed since she had abandoned them, she felt as though she had been apart from them for years. She found it difficult to remember many details about her traveling companions besides their names and combat techniques – all of her time and attention had been directed toward her former Master, and she had regarded the others as ornamental. The only memories in her mind that remained vibrant were the ones that hurt her the most. Watching her Master value her less and less, watching him learn that he could abuse her without consequence, watching him spend his time and affection on other women. She didn't mind losing her memories of her time with those people – she only regretted that her memories of Siegfried were not fading as well.

He was in the back of her mind almost perpetually, fueling a plethora of emotions – anger at him for his abuse, anger at herself for failing to serve him adequately. Regret for wasting her time in servitude to him, regret for abandoning a man she cared for so deeply. She simultaneously hated him and loved him; she wanted to be his, but only if she was the only one whom he gave his affection to. He wanted to be his servant, his property, his slave, but only if he would treat her as though she was something more. The contradictory nature of her feelings only added to her feelings of confusion and uncertainty. All she knew now was that she had left him; she could not go back; she had found a new Master; now all she had to do was think of him, instead. All she had to do was think of Nightmare, serve Nightmare, please Nightmare, and she would have nothing to fear. She would be a good slave, a good servant; she would have a purpose and fulfill it.

Now if only that man would get out of her mind, she would actually be able to concentrate.

Presently, Tira was attempting to focus not upon Siegfried, but on the blonde-haired woman whom had joined them in Greece. Fought her at the temple – knocked her into the water – carried her to her house – put her in her room...but how had they gained entry to the woman's house with her unconscious?

A broken lock – right. The lock on the back door had been broken. How long had it been since they had exploited that lock – three seasons ago? The blacksmith would most likely have fixed it by now. Still, it was the only helpful detail she could recall. She could attempt to gain entry from the rear – she tried to work that option into her plan.

Tira was not a planner. The leader is the one who makes the plans; the servant simply follows the plan. During her tenure in the Bird of Passage, her life was easy as long as she paid attention to her leaders and followed their orders. She hung on their every word and carried out their commands to the very last detail. She didn't have to put any thought at all into her actions; she just needed someone else to do the thinking for her.

It was rare when Tira was forced to design a plan by herself, and she despised the process thoroughly. She second-guessed herself constantly, always wondered what factors she was forgetting to consider, always wondered how much better her plan would be if another person had crafted it. Her commanders in the Bird of Passage and her two Masters were always so confident and sure of themselves – she envied the ease with which foresight came to them.

The first aspect of Tira's plan was to conceal her appearance. In the past, Tira's habit of coloring her hair, lips, and body had served to give her a new appearance, a new identity to escape persecution for whatever crimes she had recently committed. However, after her time with Siegfried and his lot, she knew better – she was now garbed in a heavy cloak that covered her from head to toe, and covered her head and face similarly to the way that the ninja of Japan had done. She was aware that concealing herself in this way was likely even more conspicuous than her usual garbs, but also knew that few people would dare to involve themselves with such a dangerous-looking individual.

The second aspect of Tira's plan was to conduct her mission after midnight. There would be fewer individuals present, and thus fewer possible obstacles. Thirdly, she would obtain a mount and a vessel to transport the two bodies. She had stolen a horse and a cart full of hay, and deemed them to be adequate for transporting the two children back to her Master.

Tira had never been sent on a mission to capture individuals alive, not after she had demonstrated a propensity for killing hostages and other individuals that are more valuable when still breathing. She didn't know what to expect once she arrived at Sophitia's abode. If she had to kill the husband, he might make a commotion before dying. Alarming others to her crimes would surely make things difficult for her – she would attempt to conduct her mission without raising too much noise, or unnecessary confrontations.

As for the children themselves...Tira carried with her a 'gift' from Nightmare that she felt would ensure the cooperation of the two brats. Should it fail her, she would subdue the children without causing them permanent harm, and bind their limbs. Hopefully it would not come to that...two emotional, frantic children causing an uproar would be the last thing she wanted to deal with while making her escape.

Even as the house came into view, Tira still revised her plan and looked for flaws or possible improvements. She tried to imagine every possible scenario and design plans to deal with contingencies, but unforeseen events are nearly impossible to prepare for. Hoping for the best, she brought her horse and cart to a slow stop outside the back door of the smithy, dismounted, and tried the handle.

No luck. The smith had repaired the lock after all.

Tira removed a lockpick from one of her pockets and set to work. It had been years since she had used the device, but it was one of the first things she had ever been taught to use, and the knowledge was too ingrained in her mind to ever lose. With a click, the catch gave way, and the door opened with a light push. Tira slid herself inside the house.

She was in the smithy now. There were swords and shields lining the walls, all nearly identical to the variation she had seen the two sisters using. Being surrounded by so many instruments of death almost felt comforting – but Tira did not linger. Tira moved with unnatural speed and fluidity through the house. For all of the pounds that her cloak and ringblade put on her, Tira might have been a housecat, as quiet as she was. But unlike a housecat, the woman was liquid stealth. She seeped through doorways, poured through hallways, flowed through rooms, surged up and down stairs, all without making a single extraneous noise.

She knew not to enter the room from which loud snoring was emanating. She also saw a lithe figure with long blonde hair sleeping in a bed in a separate room. Did the husband play while his wife was away? _Men – they're all the same._

Tira eventually found the children in a bedroom upstairs. They were both sound asleep in their beds, completely unaware that a murderer stood mere feet away from their defenseless bodies. The sight of such utterly vulnerable beings filled Tira with an urge to kill – to revel in their weakness, to exploit their frailty...but she would have to settle for exploiting them in a different way.

Tira reached into her garbs, and withdrew a fragment of metal. It was black, jagged, and shaped like a small, double-edged dagger. It glowed with a faint red aura, and emitted a barely audible yet ominous hum. Sometimes when Tira held it, she could hardly bare to let go of it or take her eyes off of it – it had a hypnotizing, entrancing quality...and if this was the effect of the shard on a normal human being, then Tira predicted that its properties would make the two brats putty in her hands.

Tira removed the garbs covering her head, and sat on the bed of the boy. She stroked his hair with her free hand, and he began to stir.

"Wake up, Pat..." She struggled to remember his name. "Patyrrha. Wake up."

The boy lazily parted his eyes and sleepily looked up at Tira. As the realization slowly came to him that he was looking up at a complete stranger sitting upon his bed in the middle of the night, his eyes grew wide and his face began to contort in fright.

"Do not fear me, boy. I am your friend." Tira said in what she hoped was a soothing, motherly tone of voice. "I've even brought you a gift."

Just in time to prevent the alarmed child from shouting, Tira held up the shard. After the boy's gaze reached the fragment of metal, his expression of fear gradually faded. His hands gravitated toward the shard, and Tira allowed him to grasp it. He held it tightly in one hand, caressed it with the other. He examined it from all angles, and clutched it tightly to his chest as though it were a long-lost toy that had finally been recovered. Only once he had finished inspecting the shard did his eyes return to the mysterious woman sitting upon his bed.

"I'm a friend of your mother." Tira lied. "Do you remember me? We met once. It was almost a year ago."

The boy tore his gaze away from the shard and squinted at her, as though she was far away, out of focus. "...I remember." He said at last. "What's your name?"

"My name is Tira." She said. "Your name is Pyrrha, right?"

The boy shook his head. "I'm Patroklos! But my friends call me Pat. ...Hey! Is mom back?" He asked, a little too loudly.

Tira raised a finger to her lips. "Shhhhh." She instructed. "I'm here in secret. I'm not supposed to be here."

"Why?" Patroklos whispered anxiously.

"Your mother is away on an important mission, so she can't see you right now. But I feel sorry for you, because you have to spend so much time without your mother. I'm supposed to be with your mother and her friends right now, but instead I came here to find you. I want to take you to your mother so you can see her."

Patroklos' eyes and mouth widened in surprise. "Really?" He asked.

"Yes." Tira said. "If you come with me, I'll take you to your mother."

Patroklos smiled widely. "Thank you so much! Pyrrha is coming too, right?"

"Oh, of course..." Tira said, looking very pleased with herself.

The boy's attention turned once more to the shard in his hands. "What is this thing?" He asked.

"It's...a tool that can beat Soul Edge." Tira said, telling the boy the exact opposite of the truth. "Doesn't it make you feel good?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah. Yeah...it does."

"That's good. Very good." Tira said, grinning widely.

"Patroklos, who is that?"

Tira and the boy turned to see that his sister had awoken. Rubbing her eyes, she peered at Tira warily, and then noticed the object in her brother's hands. Once her gaze found it, she did not look away. Her brother frowned, and turned away from her, clutching it possessively. "It's mine! She gave it to me." He said, almost angrily.

"What is it? Let me see!" Pyrrha said, now completely disregarding Tira. She got out of her bed and walked toward her brother. Patroklos leapt from his own bed to get away from her – Tira tried to grab him to prevent him from getting away, but he evaded her. As the girl ran toward her brother, he ran away. Pyrrha began to chase Patroklos around the room, and he evaded her as though her touch would bring him instantaneous death.

"Shhhhh! Quiet!" Tira hissed. "You two are making far too much noise!"

Patroklos made for the exit of the room, and Tira stood before it to prevent his escape. Ignoring Tira's hushed demands to stop and calm down, the two children ran frantically around the room, their chase becoming more frenzied with each step. Pyrrha finally caught her brother, and reached for the shard. He shoved her away, but she simply shoved back as she tried again to take it from him. The two children continued to fight over the fragment, and within moments they were throwing fists. Tira watched as the two siblings launched into an all-out brawl, biting and clawing each other, each keeping one hand wrapped tightly around the shard of Soul Edge, each desperately trying to keep it from the other.

Tira continued to demand the two children to stop, but they completely ignored her. Their scuffle grew louder by the moment, and Tira knew that she could not allow them to continue. She approached the two fighting children, stuck her hands into the flurry of fingernails and teeth, ripped the shard from their grasps, and held it high up where they could not reach it.

The children turned on her now, clawing and biting her as though their lives depended on it. Their meager attacks did not harm her, but certainly stung. Tira grew angry, and although her first impulse was to begin depriving them of limbs, she knew that her Master would not appreciate hosts that lacked arms and legs. Tira gripped the shard with both hands, bent it with all her strength, and snapped the fragment in two.

"Here! Now you both get one!" Tira snapped, and shoved the two shards into the greedy, grasping hands of the children. They each snatched their respective fragments from Tira's hands, and then slipped away from one another. Immediately they began to eye the other sibling's fragment covetously, which produced an exasperated sigh from Tira.

"If you two keep this up, I won't bring you to see your mother." She said.

"No!" Patroklos gasped.

"You're here to take us to see mom?" Pyrrha asked.

Tira nodded quickly. "Yes. But only if you behave. Stay quiet. Enjoy the toy I've given you. You each have one, so no fighting."

Both children suddenly seemed to have no interest in their own shard, knowing that the other sibling had one as well, but they did not want to draw the ire of the one whom had granted them these wonderful objects.

"Who are you?"

Tira whirled around to face the voice that had spoken to her. A slender, long-haired young man stood in the doorway of the children's room. He bore numerous similarities to Sophitia and Cassandra – the same facial features, the same color of hair and tone of skin. He also reminded Tira of a younger, less muscular Siegfried – he certainly shared the calm, yet threatening aura. Tira had occasionally heard the two sisters twittering about an estranged brother, but she had not expected him to be a factor tonight.

"Can Uncle Lucius come, too?" Patroklos asked.

"No, I'm afraid not." Tira said, reaching toward the ringblade slung over her shoulder.

Lucius raised his sword in preparation for combat. "No, don't hurt her!" Patroklos begged. "It's just Tira. She's a friend of mommy!"

"A 'friend'?" Lucius asked. "Why is a friend of my sister kidnapping her children in the middle of the night?"

Tira growled. Harming the children's uncle might keep them from cooperating with her. She tried to figure out a way to get out of this mess – but the only solutions she could think of involved her ringblade and blood.

"What have you given the children?" Lucius asked, pointing his sword at Patroklos' fragment. "It's something foul, isn't it?"

The children clutched their fragments possessively. Tira grinned.

"Patroklos, Pyrrha." She purred. "Uncle Lucius wants to take away the toys I gave to you."

The children gasped, skittered toward Tira, and hid behind her back.

"Children, would you rather keep your toys and see your mother, or lose your toys and stay here?" Tira asked.

"I want to see mommy. I want to keep my toy." Pyrrha said. Patroklos nodded in agreement.

"Children, listen to me!" Lucius said. "This woman is lying to you. She is no friend of your mother's. What she has given to you is evil. She is trying to kidnap you."

The children gasped, and looked up at Tira for an answer. She merely placed a hand upon each of their heads, and stroked their hair.

"Lucius wants to steal your toys." She said simply. "Stick with me and I'll make sure that you get lots more toys just like the ones I gave you!" Instantly the two children disregarded Lucius' words, and clung to Tira for protection.

"You've bewitched them." The young man growled. His composure was giving way to fury, and he trembled with anger.

"Come along, children." Tira said, and placing her hands on the children's backs, she began to walk toward Lucius. The children, each with an arm around their benefactor's waist, walked with her.

"You're not leaving this house." Lucius sneered, raising his sword.

"Children, you can use your toys to make Uncle Lucius move out of the way."

"Really?" Pyrrha asked.

"Yes!" Tira said. "Just touch him with that toy I've given you and he'll let us through!"

The two children instantly held out their "toys" toward Lucius, and began to approach him. "Don't listen to her." Lucius instructed. "She is lying to you. She is trying to – "

Patroklos swung his shard at Lucius, and the young man leapt back. He looked down at his nephew with an expression of pure horror. He knew that very moment that he had lost these two children, that if this witch held a power over them that could convince them to attack their own uncle, she had already won.

His eyes burned with a fury that Tira had never seen before, and he stepped out of the way to allow them passage. He would not risk harming the children.

"It worked!" Patroklos said with glee.

"That's right. These toys can do a great many things. I'll show you all of the things you can do with your new toys while we're on our way to see your mother. First, let's go outside – we're going to take a ride in a cart! It's going to be fun!"

The children cheered, and clung to Tira again. She guided them out of their room, past Lucius, down the stairs, through the smithy, and out the back door.

Tira noticed that Lucius was not pursuing them. Either he had given up, or he had something planned. Tira knew that she had to work quickly.

"Get into the cart, children." She instructed. "See all the hay in there? Hide inside of it. If anyone sees you or hears you, they'll try and take your toys away, so make sure you're hidden really well, and stay quiet!"

Patroklos and Pyrrha clambered into the hay that Tira had loaded into the cart. She watched them cover themselves until they were completely hidden, and then she mounted the horse.

When Tira heard glass shatter above her, she instinctively lashed her arm back, sending her ringblade sliding across her arm and into the grasp of her hand. Her ringblade blocked Lucius' longsword, but the momentum that the young man had gained from jumping through the window was enough to knock her off of the horse. The two of them went tumbling to the ground, Lucius on top of Tira's ringblade, pinning her down to the ground. She placed her feet on her ringblade and then kicked, flipping the blade up and sending Lucius flying off. By the time he had scrambled to his feet, Tira had already mounted the horse, and with a quick spur, sent it galloping straight toward him. Lucius stepped to the side and attempted to stab the horse as it rode past, but was forced to withdraw his attack and duck to avoid a decapitation from Tira. His final act was to stab his longsword into the spokes of one of the cart's wheels, but this only served to yank his sword from his hand, and send the weapon clattering to the side harmlessly, the cart unphased.

Tira covered her head and face in cloth once more, gradually slowed down the speed of her horse, and within a minute she appeared no more conspicuous than any other merchant transporting a cart of hay through the streets of Athens, despite the late hour.

After several minutes of traveling, Tira stopped the cart to check the state of the children. They were both curled up comfortably in the hay, clutching their shards, rocked to sleep by the rhythmic motions of the cart.

Tira breathed a long sigh of relief. She had succeeded. The children were hers, and now all she had to do was return to her Master. She made sure that her body and face were concealed, wrapped her ringblade in cloth to conceal the conspicuous weapon, mounted the horse again, and proceeded to exit the city.

Although Athens now enjoyed a time of relative peace, its turbulent history had required the construction of large walls surrounding the city. All entrances and exits required the crossing of a stone bridge so as to bottleneck potential invaders. Travel in and out of the city was monitored, but no examinations were enforced on travelers. Tira approached one of the city's gates, nodded amicably to the guards, and began to traverse the bridge.

The moment that her horse laid hoof outside of Athens' gates, she considered her mission to be complete. Of course, she had no way of knowing whom she was about to encounter while crossing the bridge.

--

"Athens is right there – it's in sight! We can't stop now!"

"But it's midnight, sis. What are you gonna do when we get there, wake everybody up at this hour? You've waited almost a year, another twelve hours or so won't hurt you."

"But – but – " Sophitia tried and failed to produce a suitable rebuttal.

"Just get some rest, sis." Cassandra said. "You wanna be awake when you see the kids again, right?"

"How can I sleep when I know my family is less than an hour away from me?" Sophitia whined. "We've come this far, let's not stop when we're so close!"

"Sophie, stop being selfish." Cassandra said, her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side. "We've been traveling for almost a day straight because of how eager you are to get home, and now we're all exhausted! We need our sleep, sis."

Sophitia let out a long sigh of defeat. "Fine, then...I'll wait..." She grumbled. Cassandra smirked. For once, the roles of 'stern sister' and 'impatient sister' had been switched.

The others, however, were concentrating on a more serious matter.

"Siegfried."

"Yes, I sense it."

"It's moving."

"It's leaving the city."

"If we stop now, we might lose it."

"We should try to catch up with whoever is carrying it before they get too far."

"Catch what now?" Cassandra asked.

Siegfried pointed toward Athens. "The aura of Soul Edge – we can sense it in the city."

"What?" Sophitia gasped. "What's it doing there? Does this mean the children might be in danger?"

"We can tell that it's moving out of the city." Taki said. "It's probably in the possession of a traveling merchant who failed to find anyone interested in such a dreadful thing."

"The last time," Sophitia stuttered, "the last time a merchant brought a shard to the city – the way the children reacted – they – "

"You told us." Ivy muttered. "They became frenzied, fought over it."

"Relax, Sophitia." Setsuka said. "If the shard is leaving, then it's definitely not in your children's possession."

Sophitia breathed a sigh of relief.

"So – we're not stopping?" A weary Cassandra whined.

Siegfried nodded. "And that means we keep moving – with haste. If we are quick, we'll be able to catch the holder of the shard before he leaves Athens.

--

Tira paid no heed to the figures that were approaching her from the opposing end of the bridge until they were close enough for their silhouettes to become familiar. At first, she was in denial – she refused to believe that it could be possible...but slowly, one hoofstep at a time, it became harder to deny the truth. The Korean woman was missing, and what appeared to be a little girl had been added to their alliance, but aside from those two discrepancies, Tira was undoubtedly staring down her old "friends"...and _that man_ was among them.

What were the chances? What was the possibility of this occurring? Why now of all moments? She would have found an encounter acceptable at any other moment, but not right here, not right now, not at the worst possible time!

Was it fate? Destiny? Was this a sign from the gods, the universe? Perhaps she should have expected this – her interests now ran opposite to theirs, and they were both involved with the same elements, so it was only logical to presume that their paths would cross. She should have predicted this, should have factored them into her plan – she was kidnapping the children of one of them, after all.

But, wait – did she even have to worry? There was no reason for them to recognize her. Her appearance was completely obscured, if suspicious. The children were asleep and hidden from sight, as well. All she had to do was keep moving forward – she would pass them, they would pass her, she would be safe, and her mission would not be endangered.

She tried to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead, but her eyes kept darting back toward the group. She tried to prevent her eyes from landing on him, but unfortunately his face was the one thing she wanted to see more than anything else in the world.

When she finally gave in and allowed her eyes to fall upon him, she felt her entire body go slack. _There he is. That's him. He's right there. He's so close. Master! I love you, Master. Forgive me, Master. Let me serve you, Master. I've missed you so much, Master._

When she remembered the reason she had left him, she felt her entire body become tense._ I can't believe I have to endure being so close to this scum again. I should reach out and slice his head off before he even knows what's happening! No – I should slowly torture him every day for a year, just like he did to me. I gave all of myself to him, and in return he abused me. I devoted my entire life to him, and I didn't receive a single ounce of appreciation._

_Of course not. You were his slave, not his wife. He owed you nothing. You were nothing to him but property, and that was your own decision. You shouldn't have expected anything from him in return._

_I don't want to be a "slave". I just want someone else to tell me what to do because I hate making choices on my own. But that doesn't mean he's entitled to abuse me. That doesn't mean that I can't be appreciated. That doesn't mean that a man can't return the same loyalty that I give to him. I want to be valued, to be treated well, to be appreciated, to have mutual loyalty from a man._

_But it's not just any man I want. It's him. It's Siegfried._

_Why him? He's a terrible man._

_He's not a terrible man – a man can treat his own property as good or as bad as he chooses to. That doesn't make him terrible. If it was different – if I told him from the beginning that instead of slavery, I want wanted mutual loyalty – I bet he wouldn't have slept with other women. He's a good man underneath the abuse._

_You can't go back to him. Not now. You're in too deep. You already stabbed him in the back, betrayed him, abandoned him. You were nothing to him to begin with, and you are inadequate compared to other women. He will not take you as his slave again, nor will he ever take you as his wife. You have a new Master now, a Master who allows you to indulge the desires that this Master forced you to suppress. You will enjoy your life and your new Master as soon as you sever your emotional bond to this Master._

"Hail." Siegfried said, with a hand raised in greeting. "Pardon us, traveler, but could we trouble you for a moment?"

Tira finally snapped back to reality. While she had been lost in thought, Siegfried and his companions had formed a line across the bridge, preventing her horse from moving forward. She pulled back on the reins, stopping the horse, and then cursed her decision not to lash the horse and barrel straight through their 'barrier'.

"Thank you for yielding." Siegfried said courteously, although he had given Tira little other choice. "By any chance, are you in possession of a curious metal fragment?"

Tira nearly cursed aloud. She had forgotten all about their ability to sense such things. She examined her options. She couldn't turn around – not enough room for the horse and the cart to turn. She couldn't leap off the bridge – a river flowed below. She couldn't dismount and kill them all – they were too skilled. She could attempt to barrel straight through them, but they would likely attack her horse or cart.

An alibi, she needed an alibi...

"Do not involve yourselves in those wicked fragments." Tira said, speaking in a deep voice and heavy accent. "I carried one with me for a long time, and it tainted my body with its aura. I discarded it long ago." Tira could not help but be impressed at her own cleverness. What a perfect defense! They had to let her through now.

"...I...see..." Siegfried said, slowly, cautiously, eying Tira nervously. She began to perspire, more so than she already was. Had she given herself away somehow? "...Have we met before, traveler? You seem familiar to me."

Tira turned her head aside. "I have never seen you before in my life. Please, let me pass. I am on urgent business. I must hurry."

"I've only seen one person in my entire life with purple eyes." Ivy said, smirking knowingly.

Tira winced. "It is a side effect of the metal fragment that polluted my body. It embarrasses me to speak of such matters; please, let me be on my way."

"Did you pass by a smithy while in Athens?" Sophitia asked.

"Ah – no – why?"

"You smell of coal, as though you have spent time inside a blacksmith's workshop."

"Your insults wound me!" Tira said. "I do not wish to endure any further harassment from you."

"Oh! I didn't mean any offense! I'm sorry!" Sophitia said with genuine remorse.

"Mom?" A quiet voice asked.

"...Did I just hear someone?" Cassandra asked.

"No, you didn't." Tira said worriedly.

"You know, you have a strange accent. It seems to come and go." Setsuka said.

"You mock me because I am learning how to speak this language without an accent?" Tira growled.

"What is that round thing on your back?" Asked a quiet voice. The others looked around for a moment to figure out who had spoken until they realized it was the young redheaded youth.

"Round thing...?" Tira muttered.

_The ringblade._

Although the weapon was wrapped entirely in cloth, the size and shape of the weapon were still discernable, and it was certainly one of Tira's trademarks.

"It is merchandise that I am transporting. It is a...mirror. A round mirror."

"Why do you have it on your back instead of in the cart? I've only ever known one person that carried around a disk-shaped object on her back." Ivy said with that same knowing grin.

"I refuse to divulge any more information to you scoundrels!" Tira said.

"That's enough." Siegfried said. "Let him pass."

"Siegfried!" Ivy exclaimed.

"We have troubled this poor soul enough today." Siegfried said to his followers. He turned to face Tira. "O traveler, we apologize for trying your patience today. May you fare well in your travels, and forgive our rudeness."

"Siegfried!" Ivy repeated. "That person is – "

"Look on the other side of the bridge." Siegfried said quietly.

The group turned their attention to the guard post on the opposite side of the bridge. A small group of guards were approaching them. It was likely that the guards had interpreted Siegfried's group as bandits committing a bridge robbery.

The others stepped aside immediately, and Tira spurred her horse onward past them – only to hear a familiar voice cry out.

"DON'T LET HER GET AWAY! SHE KIDNAPPED TWO CHILDREN!"

"Lucius, I should have killed you!" Tira hissed, realizing the real reason that the guards had left their posts. She lashed and spurred her horse violently, causing the steed to gallop across the bridge at full speed.

She had almost made it to the opposite end of the bridge when a bright flash of light suddenly blinded her. When her vision returned, she saw that her horse was heading toward what appeared to be a wall of blue flames. The horse stopped galloping immediately, but the cart did not stop as quickly – it kept traveling and slammed into the horse's hindquarters, sending both the horse and Tira tumbling to the ground, and into the blue flames. Tira scrambled to escape the inferno, only to realize that she felt no heat. She noticed paper with Japanese writing stuck to the ground. A ninja trick – Taki had laid a trap on the bridge in case she tried to escape!

The blue flames faded away. Tira looked up and saw that her cart was toppled over, and her horse unable to right itself. She knew immediately that she would not be able to use either anymore. _Ruined, ruined, ruined! Everything is ruined now! DAMN IT ALL!_

She saw the children come crawling out of the hay, both apparently unharmed, but startled nonetheless. Could she and the children outrun Siegfried and his lot? She couldn't give up without truing.

"Children! Come! We have to hurry!" Tira said, gesturing with her hands. The two frightened, confused children scrambled toward her.

"PYRRHA! PATROKLOS! STOP!" Sophitia cried upon recognizing her children's forms.

The two children whirled around. "Mom!" They both cried out happily. Tira knew that this was her last chance to avoid losing the children. She could only think of one option.

"Children, listen to me!" She said. "I gave you those shards! I gave you those fragments! And I'll give you more! But only if you come with me!" Tira said, extending her arms out to them.

The two children stopped and looked at one another, unsure of what to think. Their trust in Tira, born from their bond to Soul Edge, was just as powerful as their bond to their own mother.

Suddenly, the two children's arms were yanked violently out to the side by an unseen force. It was as though they were puppets whose strings had been violently pulled. Their arms now pointed away from Tira, toward the others. They were gripping tightly onto their shards, but the shards ripped from their hands and sailed through the air.

The two shards shot straight into the palm of Ivy's gauntlet, which she clenched shut as soon as the fragments made contact. "Finally, this taint has served me a purpose." She said with a smirk.

With the fragments removed from their hands, the children's demeanor changed entirely. When they saw Tira, they shrieked and ran in the opposite direction, into their mother's waiting arms. Sophitia embraced the two children with the kind of love only known to a mother, and then her companions positioned themselves in front of her to block any chance that Tira might have had of stealing them once again.

Tira fell to her knees, and slammed her fist into the stone bridge several times, each time with a curse. When she lashed her head up, she saw that Siegfried and his companions – now joined by several guards and a scowling Lucius – were not twenty steps away from her.

Disheveled, low to the ground on all fours, and spewing forth an endless string of curses, Tira appeared as though she were possessed by demons. She finally recomposed herself, rose to her feet, and stared down her adversaries. Their weapons were drawn, and both Ivy and Taki were poised to unleash their strongest spells. The only person who held no weapon was Siegfried.

He was standing in front of all the rest, yet at that moment, he looked less like the calm, stoic leader she had always known, and more weary, frail, and vulnerable than she had ever seen him.

The others were clearly waiting for Siegfried's call, and Lucius and the guards were clearly wondering why the others weren't attacking. Siegfried took a few slow steps forward toward Tira, a deep longing and pity in his eyes.

"So you really are on his side now..." He said in a voice that was almost a whisper. Tira tried to glare at him menacingly, but could not.

The two seemed to carry on an unspoken conversation. Using nothing but their intimate knowledge of one another, the many memories from their time spent with one another, the familiarity of each other's body language, and the expressions on their faces which said more than words ever could, they told each other everything they wanted to say, but could not.

"...I wish that things could return to normal." Siegfried said aloud. "But because you betrayed us once, we can't allow you back. We can't trust you not to endanger our mission."

"I - I wouldn't want to go back to you! I hate you!" Tira lied. "You're pathetic for wanting me back, and you're a twisted man!"

Siegfried showed no response or emotion to Tira's words. "Do you wish to say anything for yourself?"

"I have nothing to say to any of you." Tira said. "We no longer have any ties. It's as though I never knew any of you – got that? None of you mean anything to me anymore. I serve Nightmare now." The recollection of her current allegiance invoked a new thought process: _What can I do right at this very moment to serve my Master?_ A thin smile appeared on Tira's face as a realization came to her.

"Wait – I have something to say to that one." She said, pointing a finger toward Sophitia. The woman sneered and clutched her children closer. "Your children are one with Soul Edge. If Soul Edge is destroyed – what do you think will happen to your children?"

Sophitia lifted her head, and her sneer slowly faded into a look of realization.

"Didn't you ever think about the consequences? Your kids will die without Soul Edge to sustain them." Tira said.

"No! I don't believe you!" Sophitia said, although she did not seem convinced of her own words.

"Feeling torn? I would, too, if I'd left my children to fend for themselves." Tira spat. "Go on, continue your journey. If you win, you get to watch your children die. But you won't win – Master Nightmare will triumph. And then your children will get to live! So won't you think of joining us?"

"B-be quiet!" Sophitia stammered.

"I won't let you poison my sister's mind with your lies!" Lucius said, stepping forward. "She's only one woman; let's take her down now, before she causes any more harm."

Siegfried looked at Lucius sadly, then lowered his face. When he raised his head, he wore an emotionless expression of acceptance and determination. He slowly reached behind his back and gripped the hilt of his Zweihänder. Tira winced.

As the two parties each stood their ground, waiting for the appropriate moment to move, Amy suddenly bolted forward. The young girl charged toward Tira with speed that none could have predicted, rapier drawn and raised, her face showing no emotion but her eyes burning with an inferno of hatred. As Amy drew back her rapier, Tira reached back, grabbed her cloth-covered ringblade, and swung it out to the side, flinging the cloth away.

Tira expected no challenge from the red-haired lass, and lunged forward with her most devastating attacks to finish her off quickly. However, the girl had apparently become exceptionally skilled since the time they had last met. She sidestepped and bent her body at extreme angles to dodge Tira's attacks, while following up immediately with slashes and stabs aimed specifically for vital organs. Although Tira was able to evade mortal wounds, she sustained several blows and her blood began to fly.

Tira realized that she would have to take the girl seriously – but not in time to save herself from a devastating mistake. Amy pretended to prepare a swing, and Tira blocked in anticipation of an attack. However, Amy simply used the opportunity to drop down and sweep her legs out, tripping Tira and sending her careening into the ground. Without taking a moment to look up, Tira rolled to the side, barely avoiding a rapier through her neck. Tira continued to roll to the side as rapidly as she could, until she reached the edge of the bridge. There, she swung her ringblade back, and then hurled it forward at Amy, who dodged it deftly. She reached into her pockets, and began hurling small knives at the girl, who evaded them almost without effort.

"She's not trying to attack – she's getting rid of weight." Ivy realized.

Tira spun around and threw a knife at Taki's throat. Taki tilted her head to the side to dodge the knife, and unleashed the magic blast that she had been charging up until this point. Tira had anticipated this, and leapt up into the air after flinging the knife. Taki's magic attack exploded beneath her, sending her careening high into the air and off into the river below – just as planned.

Once in the water, Tira swam north, shed her boots and gloves, and then swam south. The others traveled north along the river, found her clothing, and continued traveling north, attempting to find her. Tira lost them effortlessly.

--

Siegfried's group was exhausted. Their encounter with Tira had been short-lived, but a taxing ordeal nonetheless. Expecting a traveling merchant at most, they had instead encountered a traitor. Her attempt to capture Sophitia's two children could only have been for one purpose – to procure surrogate host bodies for Nightmare. They were lucky to have arrived when they did, or else the children might have been lost to them.

Sophitia was incredibly emotional, sobbing and holding her children almost perpetually. Her children were distraught, as well – their memories of Tira were hazy, but they each had a feeling that they had done something terrible. They sobbed when recalling the woman and the stones she had given to them, and had no clue why.

Lucius' injuries were not serious, but he was devastated at his inability to protect the children from Tira. Warning the bridge guards that a cart-toting kidnapper was attempting to leave the city had played a major role in stopping Tira, although he expressed a deep sense of regret for failing to stop her sooner.

Although Sophitia and Cassandra would have preferred to reunite with their estranged brother under more pleasant circumstances, they were delighted to see him at all. The kidnapping ordeal and the subsequent search for Tira drained the group of all energy. Siegfried and the others stayed at an inn for the night, while Lucius returned to Rothion's smithy.

Rothion himself had only awoken at the sound of shattering glass, and panicked when he discovered that his children and brother-in-law had vanished. He followed a suspicious trail of hay and muddy hoofprints away from his open back door to the bridge where the confrontation had taken place. He witnessed the event from afar, but dared not to stray too close lest he risk his health. When he saw his wife, he felt a flood of different emotions – but when he saw the children run into her arms and saw the kidnapper evacuate the area, he felt that his presence was not necessary. Seeking not to trouble his already troubled wife, he had treated back to his smithy. When Lucius arrived, he filled Rothion in on the details.

The next day, Sophitia and Cassandra set out for Rothion's smithy. Sophitia told the others not to accompany them – that she wanted to be alone with her family. The others respected her wish.

Sophitia and Cassandra were warmly welcomed by Lucius. He had been living with Rothion since the "mugging". Although the true purpose of his extended visit was to keep an eye on Rothion and ensure that he did not conduct any debaucheries, Lucius had eventually entered into Rothion's employment. Because of the injuries that Lucius had incurred upon the blacksmith, Rothion had much difficulty running his business. Harboring a degree of guilt for wounding the man – even though he had certainly deserved it at the time – Lucius began to help out Rothion around the smithy. Lucius performed so well that after Rothion had recovered, he offered the young man a job as his assistant.

The pay was good, free room and board was an excellent bonus, and Rothion had proven himself to be more than the lecherous adulterer that he had once appeared to be. Lucius had many long discussions with Rothion and had come to understand his pain and frustration over its wife's absence, and did not judge him as harshly as he once had. Rothion was not a two-timing scoundrel, but a man who'd been subjected to a trial he could not bear, and a temptation he could not resist. Although Rothion still bore physical scars from the beating Lucius had given him, as the months passed by, something akin to a friendship had blossomed between them. Lucius would have had trouble tearing himself away from the household to begin with, seeing as he didn't want to leave the children all alone with Rothion after Cassandra had left. He no longer doubted the man's moral qualities, but loved his niece and nephew too much to leave them with only a single caretaker.

After the three of them had finished catching up, Lucius asked Sophitia what she intended to do about Rothion.

Sophitia told Lucius how she felt. Rothion had hurt her, hurt her deeply – but he would never have been unfaithful to her were it not for her absences. He had broken his marriage vows, but, she conceded, so had she in retaliation. The two were married, and they had children with one another – separation was not an option in her mind. She remembered what married life was like before the cheating incident – it was the happiest time of her life. She loved Rothion, everything about him, every moment she spent with him, and although there was a black stain on their marriage now, she wanted to make it work. She wanted to forgive him, to return to the way that things used to be.

When Sophitia finally approached Rothion, he revealed to her that he'd overheard everything that she said to Lucius. He was ecstatic that she forgave him, that she still loved him, still wanted to be his wife. He apologized to her profusely for his unfaithfulness, for his harsh words that one night so many months ago. They spoke not a word of what Sophitia had done with Siegfried, and as far as Rothion knew, Sophitia had only "taken revenge" a single time. The two of them reconciled quickly and easily, eager to put the ordeal behind them after so many months of contemplating it and wishing for a happy, peaceful resolution to the matter.

Afterwards, Rothion asked Sophitia why she had returned home. She explained that it had only been a visit – but in light of the fact that her children's lives had been endangered during her absence, she was rethinking these long leaves. She made a vow – she would only spend one more month on her current journey, and then she would not devote another second of her life to the gods. She feared that Rothion would become angry upon hearing that she was going to leave again, but instead, he was overjoyed that she would only leave for one more month.

Sophitia spent the rest of the day with her family. She enjoyed sharing with them the many things she had seen and done on her journey, but more than that, she enjoyed spending time with her husband and children as a 'normal' mother for the first time in months.

When the next morning came, Sophitia's companions visited Rothion's smithy, with the exception of Siegfried, who wisely decided to avoid Rothion and spend the day elsewhere. The family was reintroduced to Sophitia's friends, and Sophitia revealed her intention to remain in their company for only one month longer.

"I'm so worried about the children, though." Sophitia said. "When I saw them come tumbling out of that cart – knowing that someone had stolen my children – I've never felt anything so terrifying, so infuriating in my entire life. What if...what if Tira comes back?"

"I'll be ready for her next time." Lucius said. "We'll board up the children's room, put locks on the doors – and when they're not asleep, I'll watch them every moment of the day."

"You can't devote yourself entirely to protecting my children." Sophitia said. "As much as I would appreciate it, I can't ask that of you."

"You don't have to ask it; I volunteer myself to guard them." Lucius said. "I want you to have peace of mind while you're away from home; I want you to know that you don't have to worry about your son and daughter."

"...Lucius..." Sophitia said emotionally.

A few moments of silence passed, and then Cassandra spoke.

"I'm going to stay here in Athens."

The majority of the others were surprised to hear this, while several of them had expected it.

"Cassie!" Sophitia gasped. "Are you staying because of the children, too?"

"I actually decided to quit a long time ago." Cassandra admitted. "Everyone else has a really good reason to be a part of this mission – I'm only a part of the group because I wanted to tag along. ...I don't...contribute to the group. I don't have any special magical powers or anything like most of you do. I don't do very much. I wanted to go on an adventure...so I did. But now...I've had enough. I'm staying."

Cassandra's self-effacing comments were depressing, but they were also true. The others comforted her, reassured her that she wasn't useless, but also respected her decision to remain in Athens – largely because, as sad as the reality was, Cassandra was dead weight, just as she implied.

To lighten the mood, Cassandra asked Setsuka to entertain them. Delighted to perform before a new audience, Setsuka began her routine. She demonstrated the different instruments that she could play, performed several songs as well as dances, recited her most entertaining jokes, and told her most exciting tales. The Alexandra family fell in love with Setsuka, asking her to perform again and again. She was a one-woman circus, full of talents, and kept them amused for hours.

Even after Setsuka had exhausted her repertoire, the Alexandras spent a great deal of time speaking with her, in awe of her character and her proficiency in their language. The children were most fond of her. When Patroklos called her "Auntie Setsuka" and the rest of the family followed suit, something in Setsuka seemed to change. She became uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to be deep in thought. After a while, she spoke her mind.

"...I have an announcement to make." Setsuka said. "I will no longer be a part of the mission to destroy Soul Edge."

There was all-around shock this time, from everyone present.

"Why, Setsuka?" Cassandra asked.

"I was never a part of the mission – just a part of the group." Setsuka said. "Much like you, I didn't have a reason to join; my presence in your group was incidental...and rather ornamental, as well. I enjoyed my time among you all...but I believe I've found something more fulfilling. For the first time ever, I actually know what I want from life."

"And what's that?" Sophitia asked.

"...To be a part of a family." Setsuka said. "If it's alright...I'd like to stay in this home for a while. As long as you'd be willing to let me. I wouldn't be a guest; I'd be an equal member of the household. I'd do work to earn my keep, I'd pull my weight – it would be an honor, as long as I could be a part of this family."

"Where did all of this come from?" Lucius asked. "This seems rather sudden."

"I don't...know what it's like to be a part of a family." Setsuka said. "This family...it's complete. A mother, a father, a brother, a sister, an aunt, an uncle...This is everything that I have never had. I feel as though I am looking at everything that I have always wanted, right before my eyes. I feel as though...I am home. I feel as though I am finally where I belong."

"What makes you think a Greek family is just going to adopt a Japanese stranger?" Ivy scoffed.

"I'm not Japanese. I'm European." Setsuka corrected. "This country may not be my birthplace, but this part of the world is where I came from, if that makes sense. I've struggled with my identity for so long, but now I feel as though I know where I belong."

"Can Auntie Setsuka stay, dad?" Patroklos asked.

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?" Pyrrha begged.

"Well..." Rothion considered. "We're short on hands, even with Cassandra staying. We could always use another helper, especially when we have to protect the children from that woman."

"I agree; it seems that this is what's best for everyone." Lucius concurred.

Setsuka beamed with happiness. "Thank you so much – I won't let you down!"

Sophitia bid a final farewell to her family, and then she and the other women returned to Siegfried. Sophitia announced her intention to depart from the group after a month's time. It saddened Siegfried to learn that he would soon lose one of his most valuable comrades, but he respected her decision, especially in light of Tira's recent actions. After this, Cassandra and Setsuka informed their leader of their plans to depart from his mission not in a month's time, but immediately. Siegfried was surprised to hear such news, but accepted their choices as well. He did not expect anyone to feel compelled to stay in his company, considering the journey to be a personal choice, not an obligation – except in his case, of course.

Cassandra and Setsuka bid Siegfried a tearful goodbye, and then left to settle into their new lives in the Alexandra household. Siegfried looked from Ivy to Sophitia to Taki, and finally to Amy.

"So, there are five of us now." He said. "Our numbers grew for so long, but they are quickly dwindling."

"I am committed to seeing this journey through until the very end." Ivy said. "I'm not quitting unless Soul Edge is destroyed."

"...My feelings are the same as Ivy's." Taki said, one for few words as always.

Amy was one for even fewer words, and did not speak at all.

"Amy," Sophitia began, bending down to speak to the girl. "Your curse is gone and there is a household nearby that would be more than happy to take you in. Would you like to stay here, too?"

"No." Amy said firmly and resolutely, with more conviction and determination than the others had ever witnessed from he before. They knew that the cause of her passion was Tira – although Amy was the weakest member of the group, her combat skill had shot skyward since she had joined them; it took her weeks to learn what had taken them years. If she continued to develop at this rate, she would be just as talented as the rest of the group within a month's time – perhaps less than that. Her performance against Tira suggested that she was already at their level. She was no longer a burden, no longer a frail child that the others were embarrassed to drag around. Her potential was impressive, and her thirst for vengeance was frightening. She simultaneously awed them and scared then – and as of late, she had begun to earn their respect, as well.

"Well, then." Siegfried said. "Let us travel north, where the Azure Knight is said to roam. We need to learn more about him – how he came to return, how powerful he currently is, and in what ways he threatens our mission."


	54. Cursed Image

The poor fools. They were like lambs to the slaughter.

The assassins had been only too willing to undertake their mission. Perilous as it may have been, the same greed for money that validated their murders also justified the danger of their assignment. The one-eyed moor had paid them handsomely just to hear his offer, and they'd been assured an even larger bounty for successfully completing their mission.

"Down!" Taki yelled to Sophitia, who ducked in time to avoid a polearm. Taki swiftly disposed of the attacker and turned her sights on the next.

Zasalamel had warned them that their foes were not to be underestimated, that their group would need to attack relentlessly, under cover of darkness, if they were to have any hope of success.

What Zasalamel didn't tell them was that they would all die anyway. They'd be the richest men in the cemetery.

Siegfried and his band had shed their dead weight and were now moving at a satisfactory pace toward the location that Zasalamel had chosen to perform his ritual. Although these developments pleased him, there was one thing that did not. While four of the five travelers were besieged by anxiety and unease, there was yet one of them who remained perpetually calm. If the Soul Embrace was to acquire any further power before his ritual, it would need to absorb more suffering, more strife. Zasalamel would see to it that this was taken care of.

He certainly wouldn't inconvenience himself by approaching them directly; their petty grudge against him would surely be a nuisance to him. He would isolate the one whom he sought to break, and then he would sever her mind.

Many of the assassins had panicked and forgotten their plan, but a few among them continued it, and drove Taki away from the others, towards the edge of the forest, where Zasalamel waited, indifferent to his lack of stealth.

One could not easily sneak up on Taki. She would hear their footsteps, or their breathing, or even their heartbeat, and defeat them in an instant.

Fortunately for Zasalamel, Taki had exerted herself to much to retain her keen senses. She couldn't hear his heartbeat or his breath, and his footsteps made no discernible sound upon the air.

He grabbed the nukenin from behind and dragged her into the forest, disarming her quickly as he left his remaining red herrings to die by the blades of her comrades.

Zasalamel, in the meantime, would drive this struggling woman to madness.

---

Siegfried slashed and his foe dropped. Ivy and Sophitia covered his back as he lifted up the Chinese man in the black hood, locking eyes with him before beginning his interrogation. Amy watched with her trademark apathy.

"Why did you try to kill us?" Siegfried asked.

The man replied in Chinese, in a tone to suggest he wasn't interested in complying. Ivy and Sophitia were of no help with translation, and Taki was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, Siegfried shook the man.

"Who hired you?" Siegfried demanded.

More words he didn't understand.

"You're green, Siegfried." Ivy said, commanding the Valentine's blade to split into parts, and raising it to the man's neck. "_This_ is how you interrogate someone..."

---

Taki woke and found her hands and feet bound, her swords a few feet away. She hadn't lost any clothing, she was glad to see, and she still had a few devices left in strategic spots in her armor, exactly as she'd been trained to have.

"You are an anomaly, Taki the nukenin." Zasalamel observed from somewhere around her.

Taki tried to turn her head, but her position made this difficult. Out of her peripheral vision she could vaguely make out a silhouette. Based on his position, he was sitting cross-legged, but not on the ground. He was floating several feet to her right, approximately two meters from the nearest tree.

She measured the length of Zasalamel's body, and contrasted it with the distance and how well she could move her wrist while it was bound. The likelihood of a critical hit from a kunai or shuriken at this distance was slim, especially considering Zasalamel's apparent indestructibility. Her singular confrontation with him had ended within seconds, and he'd successfully controlled Ivy and manipulated Geki – as well as fought Siegfried to a standstill. Her respect for the man's combat aptitude was matched only by her distaste for his manipulative method.

Her shuriken were in a pouch at her hip. Two kunai rested in her boot, strapped beneath her bodysuit's leg. She could probably reach the shuriken, but Zasalamel had a clear view of her back, and if she rolled over to conceal her hand, she wouldn't be able to throw them at him.

A few ounces of gunpowder rested beneath her right shoulder pad, and the rope for her grappling hook lay under the left. She kept her hands still for the time being, listening for any sound of attack before she tried to strike.

"Most kunoichi specialize in espionage, not combat." Zasalamel said. "They make use of their feminine attributes to seduce and obfuscate their targets, and then dispose of them more discretely – more subtly – more elegantly than you do."

Taki did not reply. She did not believe that Zasalamel could possibly be aware of her thoughts on such women and their conduct, but then again, it wouldn't surprise her if he had somehow gained the knowledge.

"You possess no tact or subtlety." Zasalamel observed. "Your efforts are all devoted to the shinobi arts, and you forsake your gender role. But, why do you do so? For what? To whom are you trying to prove yourself?"

Taki's hand grasped her shuriken. She used her peripheral vision to measure the distance, and practiced flicking her arm with her free wrist, creating the appearance that she was trying to wrest free of her bonds. Based on how far she could move her fingers, she could probably hit him...but she was still calculating the height and the speed of her throw.

"And I answer myself," Zasalamel continued, "you intentionally focus on what separates you from the rest of your gender, rather than what binds you to it. Are you _afraid_ to acknowledge than you are a woman? Or are you _ashamed_ of it?"

Taki was unphased by insults, and considered verbal abuse to be one of the weakest forms of attack. She did not wish to honor his petty remarks with a response, but replied to him to distract him from what her hands were doing and buy herself some time. "My gender is of no consequence to me." She said tersely.

Zasalamel raised an eyebrow. "The kraken wakes. And already I can tell you disdain what you are. You disparage your gender. You deny whatever natural advantages you could derive from it, and try to play a role you were never intended to occupy."

Taki had to keep him talking just a few moments longer..."What do you know of me?"

"Only that you spend all your time denying what you are." Zasalamel replied. "For someone so concerned with efficiency and personal advancement, you overlook some of your greatest strengths."

"Not strengths." Taki replied curtly. "Nothing worth keeping."

"So concerned with becoming stronger that you overlook the advantages you have possessed since birth." Zasalamel told her. "Do you hate being a woman so much?'

Before he'd finished asking the question, Taki found her bead and jerked her wrist as best she could. The shuriken in her hand spiraled through the air, right towards Zasalamel's neck, right at the corner of his jaw, at the highest point of one of his largest carotid arteries. The strike wouldn't kill him immediately, and he'd bleed for several seconds before he was rendered unconscious. She could only hope the strike would render him too stunned to react in time. After all, it usually did.

However, most people couldn't conjure a spherical field around themselves at will, either. The barrier Zasalamel erected appeared and dissipated during the split second in which the shuriken was within its range, and the weapon bounced off and landed uselessly on the ground far below.

"It is very rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking." Zasalamel told her. He allowed himself to return to the ground, walking towards the bound woman. "But I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less than you trying to escape."

"It is my way." Taki said simply.

"I waste time with a verbal interrogation," Zasalamel observed. "And you were undoubtedly trained to resist torture..." He extended his hand. "...physical torture, at least."

He waved his arm, his wrist glowing with baneful dark blue light. "Your mind is so solely focused on your personal advancement, I doubt you value the past very much at all."

Zasalamel vanished, replaced by a burning temple, and a grotesque demon with four arms and three faces.

Taki dropped down before him, readying the Mekki-Maru and leveling it at her target.

**You are used to killing by now,** Zasalamel noted, his voice reverberating inside her head. **Did you show any hesitation then? Was it difficult to take another person's life?**

**Or did you simply rationalize that creature wasn't human anymore? That killing a demon was far easier than killing a human?**

Taki could not reply. She had no control over her actions. She was merely viewing a memory, watching herself battle the demon, her body doing nothing more than acting out her recollection of battling this monstrosity. As fire rained down around her, she struck without hesitation. She cut without mercy or forethought. Her only thought was for survival.

**Would it surprise you to learn that those lives you've ended have led to numerous of lost souls wandering the Earth? Their desire for vengeance upon you led to a few to call out for me – they pleaded, begged me to grant them the chance to end your life. **

The scene changed. Taki was modestly removing her clothing to bathe. Though it was a formality, she had agreed to remain clean and fresh in the presence of her lord and any of his associates. She did not expect her clan members to spy on her – they knew her well enough that any who desired her would respect her privacy – but she was still cautious.

Taki certainly didn't want her enemy to witness this, either...

**So ashamed of your femininity. You would do anything you could to blend in among men, so long as you remained the best of them. So long as you were the most powerful and most dependable, you would be only too happy to wear their armor and wield their weapons and forsake any natural talent.**

Taki was dissatisfied with her breasts. To her, they were nothing more than unnecessary blobs of fat, even if she was quite muscled underneath. She didn't want to use them as a distraction, and they'd been known to impede some of her movements. They were another obstacle to be worked around, a handicap that led a few of her comrades to belittle her.

But then, she was belittled simply for being a woman, too.

**You hate yourself. You cannot stand even the slightest imperfection. The slightest social stigma disgusts you. You're suffering, and you impose it upon yourself. You can only drive it off by bearing as many burdens – as many responsibilities – as you can hold. **

Taki found herself lying on the ground again, Zasalamel towering over her, his outstretched hand not a foot from her face.

"Those souls I told you about would like a few words with you." Zasalamel said. He stepped away, but the blue light lingered.

From it, shadows emerged, gradually becoming more corporeal and forming recognizable, humanoid forms. Blood fell from their chests, their waists, and their neck's carotid arteries. They lurched forward, unimpeded by their wound. All reached towards her, and she struggled to escape, but could not cut or reach her explosives or her sutras.

The hands reached down to her face. They pulled at her, attempting to drag her towards that dark light.

For the first time in years, she screamed.

---

It was Sophitia who heard the cry. "Taki." she said simply, heading into the woods. Ivy left the blood soaked and barely conscious assassin on the ground as she, Siegfried and Amy moved to follow.

It wasn't like Taki to be in pain.

It wasn't like her to scream.

And if something scared Taki, it was bound to terrify them too.

---

Zasalamel watched his apparitions grasp and claw at her with a weary sense of duty. He did not take any particular joy in the sight – though, admittedly, it was rare for him to derive joy from anything – and if he still possessed a typical moral compass, he might've pitied her.

She was not his enemy, specifically. She was a tool who would be more useful to him after her psyche was shattered, and he knew that simple physical force would not be enough to break her. He had to target her fragile mind, and prey upon her most personal weaknesses.

It was in poor taste, he admitted. It was an unfortunate set of circumstances.

Zasalamel had long felt that the world would be a better place if people were not punished for their mistakes, but instead rewarded for learning from those mistakes. He'd been punished by nature itself for the choices he'd made, and he abhorred the penalty he had to suffer even after he had learned the error of his ways. He did not wish to harm others, not without reason, not even with reason. Most humans were so much weaker than himself that to harm them was genuinely unfair.

Taki the nukenin was strong. She would survive the torment.

But that didn't mean she deserved it.

It was just what he had to do to accomplish his objective.

Zasalamel's attention was quickly diverted from the matter, however. He recognized the platinum blonde mane of Ivy Valentine and the heavy armor of Siegfried. Zasalamel would be overmatched battling an alchemist and a skilled swordsman simultaneously, and his objective was complete anyway.

He drew the souls back within himself, and began his retreat. Taki was still dazed, lying on the ground, her eyes alight with obvious fear.

Sophitia immediately dropped to kneel beside Taki, examining her for injuries. Ivy moved to pursue Zasalamel as he vanished into the shadows, but Siegfried restrained her, grasping her bare shoulder.

"We help our comrade first." Siegfried told her firmly. "We do not pursue him on our own if it can be helped."

"No..." Taki moaned, sitting up. "...Schtauffen, you must...pursue him. He's the one...keeping us from destroying the Embrace."

"Your safety is more important than him," Siegfried replied.

She was still hurt. Still terrified. Still vulnerable.

Still very, very angry, and growing resentful of Siegfried's illogical decision.

"The mission must always come before the lives of comrades." Taki said firmly, even as she shook from pain. "You could have recovered me after he was stopped!"

"We cannot risk losing the person we need in order to purify the sword." He lowered his head solemnly. "I will allow no more good people to die because of this madness." The face of Talim briefly flickered in Taki's mind.

Sophitia tried to convince Taki to lay down and rest. Taki appreciated the concern, but would not be dissuaded. "Schtauffen – "

"If you have an objection, we can discuss it after you've been tended to." Siegfried told her firmly. "It's not as though any of us will be going anywhere else tonight."

Reluctantly, Taki accepted Sophitia's help, and caressed her wrists once they were unbound, the feel of clammy, dead hands still upon her neck.

---

Taki's tent was small, but she kept herself even more cramped by storing her weapons to one side and her scrolls and explosives in another. There was barely room to lie down, but what room she had was sufficient, and the ground was comfortable enough. She wasn't particularly injured...even if that's what Sophitia had tried to treat.

By the same token, Taki wasn't willing to acknowledge her vulnerability, even to her comrades. Though she doubted they were disappointed in her or begrudged her for letting Zasalamel get the better of her, Taki still felt she had failed. She'd been defeated quite easily, by an adversary who'd exploited her weaknesses without raising a weapon. She hadn't even been able to land a single blow.

And all his comments about her..._womanhood._

What did it matter that she was a woman? She was as competent as any of her clan members had ever been – and indeed, often she was even more competent. She was stronger than most men, and her lighter frame made her more agile. Even if she was an atypical kunoichi, what did that matter? She was more versatile and less predictable as a result.

Any human could kill any other human. She'd been trained to deliver a single definitive stroke, and had been trained to do so before her target knew she was there. The fact that she was a woman never entered the equation when she carried out her duty.

Except the few foes who had avoided striking her, or the ones who had been all too easy to slay because they had been distracted by her form. Men and demons alike could not resist eyeing her, and she'd been only too happy to capitalize on that lechery and cut out the very eyes they roved her body with. It had become routine for her to capitalize on other's hesitation and step forward without fear.

Yet now, Zasalamel…

It wasn't the first time she'd faced a supernatural enemy. It was, however, the first time her past had come back to bite her. She'd faced some persistent foes more than once – Ivy came to mind – but never had she been rendered vulnerable and faced dozens at once.

Never had she been so...completely defeated.

And then, Siegfried had chosen to help her rather than to follow Zasalamel. That, more so even than her own failure, appalled her. Among her last group of comrades, losses – while infrequent – had always been a possibility. Death was their business. Completion of their mission mattered more than any member of a typical four man cell. The orders of their lord were absolute. The institution and the completion of their tasks always mattered more than the men who carried it out.

Siegfried's vow of pacifism had impressed Taki at first, but based on what tales she had heard of him and what she had seen for herself, his ways had proven impractical more than once. The Azure Knight would certainly not hesitate to kill, and Tira wouldn't have any trouble killing anyone but her former Master – or at least that was what Taki predicted, despite the slave's words on the bridge at Athens.

Siegfried could destroy Nightmare, as he was nothing but an evil will bound to a suit of armor that was a shadow of his former self. Siegfried hated Zasalamel just enough to hurt him, but probably not just enough to kill him.

And though Siegfried would probably give up his life to destroy Soul Edge, she saw now he would not be willing to sacrifice anyone else to do it. He wouldn't give up any of his comrades, and the fact he'd bedded a few of them probably made him even more protective.

Perhaps he had specifically saved her because he'd yet to have her...

No. That was immaterial. The problem was not whatever desires Siegfried might have for her. The problem was that he was their leader, and he had been unwilling to sacrifice one of his squad for the good of the mission.

He lacked the ruthlessness, the sense of devotion to duty, required from a leader. He was so devoted to his friends he'd allowed their enemy to escape. He insisted that everyone live to see the end of this journey.

It was admirable. It was a good trait, and something she could respect.

But not in a leader. Not from the man who had to make choices for the good of everyone.

Before Taki could raise an objection, she'd speak to the others. She wouldn't make a move until she knew where her other comrades stood.

And whether they would follow her instructions when the time came.

---

Their campsite was almost ideally situated at the base of a single mountain cone, less than a mile from the forests. The area was full of hills, and a single alcove near the cinder cone had filled with water from a neighboring river and formed a hot spring.

It was small, but accommodating. Siegfried had filled half of it on his own, but he'd left to allow Sophitia and Ivy some privacy. He'd gone to sit in his tent, chivalrously keeping away. Taki was supposed to be resting, but she would not spurn the opportunity.

She stepped past Amy swinging her rapier around, indifferent to the hot spring. Taki arrived at the spring and spotted the two other women on opposite sides of the semicircular pool. Sophitia had tried to make conversation, but Ivy's responses had been short and neutral. Sophitia's friendliness was getting her nowhere with such a staunch woman.

And Sophitia might've objected, but she didn't seem surprised to see Taki. Ivy merely nodded as Taki disrobed and joined them, leaving her weapons and tools only a few inches from the edge of the water. She was still modest, and moved into the water very quickly.

Women did this all the time, she rationalized. She had been raised around men, and hadn't been exposed to such a typical social activity. In a few seconds she would be comfortable...a selfish thought to have, when she intended to ask them questions that she knew would make them very uncomfortable.

"Have you healed well?" Ivy asked, frank as ever.

"I'll be fine." Taki responded simply. "But this can't happen again."

Sophitia frowned. "Taki, no one blames you – "

"And I don't expect you to," Taki cut her off. "The problem wasn't that I had been defeated. The problem was in our leader's insistence on coming to my aid."

"Come on, that's what Siegfried is like." Sophitia replied. "He can't help but be concerned. He cares for all of us."

"As you care for him?" Taki asked.

"...I care for him as a comrade. Nothing more." Sophitia answered solemnly. Although there was no direct evidence, it was apparent that the swordsman and the married woman had enjoyed a nocturnal embrace while she was wounded by her unfaithful husband. Taki knew that it was in poor taste to remind Sophitia of the stains on her marriage, but she did not intend to hold back on account of others' shame.

"He isn't the smartest among us." Ivy noted. "But that wasn't his forte or niche to begin with. Just because he prioritizes keeping us alive isn't reason to think less of him."

Taki had not expected that of Ivy. "I thought you'd be encouraging him to be ruthless."

"I do." Ivy responded flatly. "Frequently. But I don't expect him to comply; that isn't in his nature. He's so burdened by self-imposed guilt for Nightmare's crimes that he would never adapt methods that suit his nemesis."

"That is understandable, but that isn't what we need." Taki pressed. "We had our primary enemy outnumbered and surprised, and we didn't pursue him."

"You saved me when I needed to be saved." Sophitia reminded her.

"Only after I'd finished the fight with Cervantes." Taki pointed out. "I carried out my mission before I helped you."

"And that's your philosophy." Ivy said tersely. "That's what you believed was more important. Obviously, that isn't how Siegfried feels. What is the issue here?"

"I am not trying to make you doubt Siegfried's virtues." Taki continued. "I am calling into question his role as our leader. He has to think about our ultimate goal before he thinks about us."

"Why?" Sophitia asked.

"Don't be naïve." Taki requested. "This is dangerous. You went on this journey knowing it was possible you wouldn't come back."

"That _I_ wouldn't come back." Sophitia confirmed. "That doesn't mean I'd be willing to sacrifice anyone else."

Taki was at a loss for words.

"It's almost funny how differently I see things from you two." Ivy observed with a chuckle. "I'd be perfectly content to sacrifice either of you – hell, both of you and a thousand others – if it would complete this journey and dispose of Soul Edge. My soul is tied to that sword, so I don't believe that I will live after its destruction. I don't want to die myself, but I would happily sacrifice anything – my life, your lives, anything – without hesitation if it would destroy that infernal weapon."

Both Taki and Sophitia were speechless. Ivy shrugged. "And here I thought you two might value honesty."

Another thought crossed Taki's mind, and all thoughts of Ivy's shameless disregard were lost. "There's also the fact...well, Schtauffen – "

Ivy inferred immediately. "Oh, you think he wouldn't risk losing you until after he'd slept with you?"

Sophitia's cheeks started to turn red. Taki herself remained focused on the task at hand. "Yes, I'm worried. He hasn't tried anything yet, but I know he looks at me – "

"Does that make you self conscious?" Ivy asked. "Or uncomfortable?"

"No." Taki answered firmly. "Why? Did you feel that way?"

"Not at all. I seduced him." She said, almost proudly. "He might've cast a glance my way, but I was the aggressor. From the very beginning I had him wrapped around my finger, and called on him when I wanted to have my bit of fun."

Sophitia seemed affronted by these statements.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." Ivy smirked at Sophitia. "Have you forgotten when we went underground and you snuck off with him? You were so insistent about spending time with him you left both of you very vulnerable to attack."

Sophitia stammered. "I – "

"Oh, don't worry, you don't have to justify yourself," Ivy said. "I've never much concerned myself with what the other members of our merry band are up to. We've all gone through our own paces, all made our own decisions...and although we never discussed it aloud, there was an unspoken schedule between us, a calendar describing which nights of the week each one of us was allowed to seek comfort from Siegfried."

"That's not true at all." Sophitia said in a very small voice.

"Don't let her fool you, Taki." Ivy suggested. "There was a schedule well before you joined us, and it kept going for a while after."

"I'm aware." Taki said simply. "And I normally wouldn't care about other people's business, but it's clearly affecting Schtauffen's judgment."

"And that's a bad thing?" Sophitia asked. "That he wants to keep us all alive?"

"At the expense of our mission." Taki fired back.

"You don't know that for sure." Sophitia fired back, just as quickly.

"No, I suppose I don't..." Taki admitted. "...but I know how I can find out."

---

Taki had taken first watch. Normally she might be willing to serve two continuous watches, but Siegfried insisted on at least trying to convince her to let him take over. She knew he'd come, blissfully unaware of what she'd discussed with Sophitia and Ivy.

He stepped out of his tent and towards the dying remnants of their fire, where Taki sat, her weapons at her right.

"Can I convince you to let me take over tonight?" Siegfried asked, sitting down beside her.

"If you think you can, try me." Taki replied, moving to the side to allow him more room. "But you'll have to hear out a proposal of mine."

"Go ahead." Siegfried offered.

"Give me the Soul Embrace." Taki instructed. "And inform our comrades that you've deferred all the duties of command to me."

Siegfried was taken aback. "Taki, are you – ?"

"Serious? Very." Taki told him. "You could've jeopardized our mission today, and that would be grounds for reprimand in any serious organization. If you are truly unwilling to sacrifice, I'll be relieving you of command."

Siegfried paused, stopping to think. "Do you really believe I was in error in allowing Zasalamel to escape?"

"Yes!" Taki replied with uncharacteristic fervor. "I know you've seen enough of death – we all have – but you must be willing to sacrifice your comrades, or your hesitation will allow our enemies to succeed. I have no problem with your vow of pacifism, but you can't afford to save everyone, or Soul Edge will endure!"

Siegfried stood up. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Taki." he stated simply. "No, I will not give you Soul Embrace, and no, I will not give you command over the others."

Taki stood up immediately after, instinctively drawing the Rekki-Maru and leveling it forward. "You must think this through logically, Schtauffen! This is a very dangerous journey we've embarked upon, and people will die!"

"People _have_ died." Siegfried replied bitterly. "And no one else will, if I can manage it."

"You cannot be flippant about this!" Taki shot back. "Your responsibility is first and foremost to completing our mission, at any cost!"

"Not at the cost you're suggesting." Siegfried responded, looking at the tip of her blade, a few inches from his chin. "I trust you to be efficient, Taki, but not to be ruthless. What you're suggesting isn't a burden I'm willing to bear."

"That is exactly why you should entrust the responsibility to me." Taki replied flatly. "Your compassion is an admirable trait, but one you are obviously unable to set aside when we need you to."

"You have enough responsibility thrust upon you," Siegfried said. "And now that our numbers are reduced, I won't put even more pressure on you. We're going to find a way to purify the sword, and I will not sacrifice anyone to get there."

"And I – " Taki began, but was swiftly cut off.

"You will? You'll sacrifice one of us?" Siegfried asked. "Well, here's your chance to prove it. I will not surrender Soul Embrace to you. If you want charge of it, you'll have to take me down."

Taki glared at him. "Not while our numbers are limited, and not when you are a capable combatant."

"Then things stay the way they are," Siegfried told her. "And no one will die."

Taki continued to glare, her grip tightening on Rekki-Maru. "Our mission has to come first. We don't have time to be sympathetic."

"You don't." Siegfried said. "But that's your strength. Not mine."

"One more chance, Schtauffen." Taki told him flatly. "For the good of the mission."

Siegfried stepped forward, placing his neck beside her sword.

"Go ahead and sacrifice, then." Siegfried told her. "For the good of the mission."

Taki's gaze was still intensely focused on Siegfried's own. He was serene, waiting on her to act without concern.

Taki respected his bravery. She understood that willingness only too well, as she'd been ready to die at any moment, and she beat her fear down and kept a strong face.

It was easy to deliver a definitive strike. She wouldn't need to kill him, only show she was serious.

Show him she was right.

Show him…

…her hand was shaking. She couldn't will herself to move.

She couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Because of that face. Those words.

Taki lowered her blade and looked away from him, unable to speak. Unable to explain herself.

"Not so different from me, are you?" Siegfried asked her. "Willing to die, but not willing to let anyone else die for you."

"...I suppose so." Taki replied tentatively, sitting back down.

"Sophitia is the same," Siegfried replied. "And Isabella puts up a tough front, but she'd sooner jump in the path of an attack than let it hit Amy. She's not expecting an existence when all this is done, but her participation in this quest proves that she does care about the next generation. She's strong enough to let one of us die, but not for anyone else."

Taki sat quietly, watching the fire die down.

"We're all ready to die." Siegfried told her. "We sacrifice ourselves, and no one else. I don't get to decide that. If you feel you have to die for this mission to be a success, you can only do it after me and anyone else who'd come to your aid."

"Schtauffen, what about how you feel?" Taki asked him. "You've...been with Ivy and Sophitia. And Tira, too. You could compromise all of our success because you care too much."

"...I have thought about this." Siegfried acknowledged somberly. "And I don't honestly know what'll happen when I'm faced with that situation. But if today was any indication, I'd prioritize the safety of my comrades, first and foremost."

"And Tira?" Taki pressed. "Her words on the bridge...she's our enemy now."

Siegfried was very quiet for several seconds as he contemplated. "Yes, she is." he confirmed. "But if possible, we will not take unnecessary lives – even hers."

"But what if it_ was_ necessary? Would you be able to strike her then, Schtauffen? Will you be able to kill when we need you to?"

Siegfried closed his eyes. "I know when another person's life stands in the way of doing the right thing. I know when...there is no other choice. I will be able to do the right thing, whenever I have to."

In that moment, Taki could see why Sophitia and the others spoke so highly of this man. Perhaps it was the dying firelight, or perhaps it was just his clear, strong diction, but Taki had been impressed by him.

His vice was an inappropriate lust for the female form, and although Taki was certainly no exception, Siegfried had conducted himself in a brave, dignified manner in her presence. And, of course, he was a tall, strong man with stunning eyes and a deep voice...

Taki shook her head. There was no need to complicate their relationship further, and Siegfried was probably wearied of arguing with her. And even if she acted upon such feelings, she had no idea what would happen. She'd never been with a man before, and wouldn't have any clue what would happen if she were to.

She never expected to make love to a man. In her clan, she wouldn't want any infighting or animosity amongst her comrades, so she never pursued a romantic relationship with any of them, preferring to relate to the others as simple brothers in arms or even friends. She had known very few women at the time, and most of those she knew had been enemies, using their feminine wiles to distract – and subsequently disarm – her comrades. She'd hated them, and never respected them. She'd never felt any connection simply through gender.

Yet, the women she called comrades had slept with Siegfried, and none appeared any worse for the wear. Though Sophitia certainly carried a lot of guilt with her now that her marriage had been repaired, Siegfried's strength and passion had brought her comfort. And Ivy was considerably less irritating the day after she'd made use of Siegfried's body.

But that wasn't reason enough for Taki to sleep with him. It was clear he'd do exactly the same thing and make the same effort to protect her if he slept with her or not. He was certainly protective of Amy, and there wasn't any chance of her appealing to his base desires, not for a few more years, at least.

She'd never touched a man in anything but a platonic manner or an attempt to administer first aid. She'd never shared a kiss or even an affectionate hug. She'd never wanted a man to do so.

Yet, Siegfried...he had virtues she could not help but admire. Compassion, strength, rationality. He was what a man was meant to be, and had proven time and time again that he was deserving of trust, even if he wasn't exactly monogamous. Besides, she didn't want a relationship for the time being. Could passion do her any harm?

"Siegfried?" She asked.

"Yes?" The man replied, his countenance just as stoic as always. His eyes did not stray from hers, he did not allow his gaze to wander across her body, he did not tremble with boyish anticipation and eagerness. He was not the man that his vice made him out to be – while his weakness for the female form was undeniable, he was in control of such desires. He was giving her his attention, his respect, something he would only grant to one whom he valued for more than just an attractive figure.

And that, to Taki, was far more arousing than any flirtation or seduction could have been.

She lowered her mask, even if it was already down past her chin. She looked up to him, holding his gaze, and moved closer.

She kissed him. She missed his lips, almost biting him as she tried to figure out what to do. Siegfried was surprised at first, but closed his eyes and moved his own mouth to accommodate hers'. Taki closed her eyes after him and followed his example.

It was a strange feeling at first, and very wet. She could smell him very well, and it took several seconds to get comfortable, but once she felt at ease, she pulled him in with one hand, drawing him closer, and the two entered a warm embrace as they moved close and closer to the ground...

---

Although there was no evidence to be found suggesting that anything had happened between Siegfried and Taki, the telltale awkwardness between them the following morning was more than enough to give Ivy and Sophitia reason to speculate.

"Do you think they – ?" Sophitia began, but Ivy raised a hand to silence her.

"It's not our concern." Ivy told her as she attempted to hold back a small smirk.

And so their journey continued, with each of them just a little more protective of their comrades than they'd been the day before.


	55. Moonlight

In an age now found only in myth and long since buried in the shifting sands of time, there lived a man who dedicated his life to mastering every fighting art of the world. His expertise with weapons is described in such high esteem that his skills could be compared with that of legendary heroes past and present, from East and West. In fact, his abilities may even surpass the talents of all who ever lived before him or after him.

The era in which this legendary warrior lived was a time of endless tribal warfare, and the troubled world around him desired a hero, a savior – but this man had no interest in the affairs of the world. He found meaning in strength alone. The people were in awe of him, but he paid no attention to their words of praise, concerned only with honing his skills.

By the time this warrior had reached manhood, there was no human being on earth who could challenge him. With one single exception that had ended in a draw, he could boast that he had been undefeated in the countless duels he had fought. And so, to seek a force that could challenge him, he turned his eyes to those with greater power – the gods.

It was said that the god of war observed the world through the eyes of owls. The warrior began to hunt and kill nocturnal birds of prey, expecting the creatures to possess the strength of their master. While common owls did not hold such power, the warrior eventually encountered a servant of Ares that was imbued with the war god's power. The warrior defeated the servant and severed its owl-like head as proof of his victory. However, the people did not extol his achievement, for they feared the wrath of the gods.

The gods' wrath did come, as swift and harsh as a wave crashing upon the shore. A curse was laid upon the warrior – when touched by the light of the moon and the stars, his head would transform from human to owl, and back again with the dawn. Upon seeing his curse, the people began to dread the warrior as one whom would bring the wrath of the gods wherever he traveled. Using deception to circumvent his strength, they captured him and bound him with heavy chains that even his Herculean strength could not shatter.

As the warrior lay chained to an altar at the top of a mountain, the god of war appeared before him, and threw the warrior down into an ancient ruin that sprawled deep beneath the earth.

_"I shall give you time without end. Within this endless labyrinth, you shall realize your folly."_

Time within the ruin flowed differently than in the outside world. Nothing changed, no matter what he did. He did not grow old, or hungry, or thirsty. There was nothing for him but the cold and endless corridors. For much time, the warrior wandered the infinite passageways of the maze in search of an exit. But, eventually, he accepted his fate, choosing to remain in one room of the labyrinth and fall into a deep slumber.

An imperceptible amount of time passed. It may have been decades, it may have been centuries, for all the difference it made to the slumbering warrior.

Suddenly, the silence that had lasted for so long was broken. A deafening roar shook the entire labyrinth, and the great waves of power that followed were enough to awaken the legendary warrior. The torrent of power that ran through the maze in that moment broke the seal that had been placed on the labyrinth; the incantation that caused its passageways to loop infinitely was broken. From the change in the way that the air was flowing, the warrior could tell that the entrance of the labyrinth was finally unsealed.

At that time, the warrior had no way of knowing that this phenomenon was the power of the Evil Seed.

Stepping out from the labyrinth for the first time in an eternity, he learned that the world outside had changed greatly since his era. The gods that he had once challenged had lost their power. The curse placed upon him would likely never be broken. This did not particularly trouble him, however.

Those waves of power that had interrupted his sleep were undoubtedly the greatest power of this era. When he realized this, his body trembled with excitement.

Although he was eager to challenge this new power, he was aware that eagerness was far removed from readiness. He could tell that his combat senses had dulled over the course of his long sleep, that his body had atrophied due to eons of inactivity.

Despite his strong desire to leave the prison that had confined him for so long, the warrior once again returned to the labyrinth, intending to remain within the maze until he had sharpened his dulled abilities.

The evil energy that now coursed through the underground chambers began to corrupt the labyrinth – the warrior saw the walls contort before his eyes, the ground twist at his feet, the water churn in unnatural ways. Even the shadows themselves danced upon the walls as though they had a life of their own – and indeed they now did, taking grotesque forms and departing from the surfaces they were once confined to, becoming malevolent entities of darkness that wandered the corridors of this corrupted labyrinth.

The warrior did not fear such anomalies, but he was not so foolish as to doubt the power of magic again. He would battle these abominations, patiently study them, understand them, learn what advantages they possessed and likewise their weaknesses, until he had discovered how to conquer them. He would not risk entering the world once again until he had dominance over such forces. Once that day arrived, he would exit this prison and enter daylight once more…

...and let the world know that Olcadan had returned.

---

It was an unimpressive stone structure, but it was just an entrance, so it hardly needed to be magnificent. Nonetheless, the crumbling stone was distinctive against the sands on the edge of the Black Sea, and it was even more notable for the pile of broken stone at the entrance, as though it had either weathered away or been forced open.

Normally, Siegfried and his companions would've passed by this structure without a second thought, but Taki had detected evil energy emanating from it, long before they'd come within visual distance. By the time they'd drawn close enough to touch, all of them felt the overwhelming sense of force and dread emanating from the dark tunnel.

The energy they detected was reminiscent of Soul Edge, but was unlikely to be fragments. More likely would be another of the warriors affected by the blade, and this time it would be one none of them had ever encountered before.

What possible reason had they to enter this place, when it was entirely possible they could pass without worry?

The temple was not far from Athens, where Setsuka and Cassandra remained to defend Sophitia's family. If whatever existed within ever found its way out, the power it possessed might be enough to overwhelm them. For the sake of eradicating any person corrupted by Soul Edge or any detached shard of the blade's power, and to eliminate a possible threat to Sophitia's children, Taki and Siegfried decided to enter. Ivy and Amy merely followed.

The stone floor groaned beneath their feet as they walked, aching in its decay. Taki reached into one of the pouches at her waist and used the components within to construct a rudimentary torch, illuminating the dark stone passage ahead of them – not that there was much to see.

Their descent through a cramped stairwell led them into an enormous chamber with stone platforms positioned over murky, green-tinged water. Several other torches adorned the walls, burning brightly, their aura indicating that they were lit not by fuel, but by incantation.

The stone platform was connected to the passageway by a makeshift wooden bridge. Siegfried approached tentatively, testing the bridge under his weight before signaling for the others to cross. He couldn't tell how deep the water beneath them went, but the current was unusually fast, and he – at least – would not be unable to climb out in his heavy armor.

"Do you sense anything, Taki?" Siegfried asked.

"The aura is even stronger," Taki replied, "but the evil energy...I can't feel it at all anymore."

The fires around them flickered. The smell of the discolored water surrounding the stone grew only fouler. Barely illuminated pathways lying ahead of them seemed to stretch forward only into interminable darkness.

The group remained in fairly close formation, and as they proceeded forward, Taki, Ivy, and Sophitia each faced different directions, guarding each flank instinctively. Amy stood between the four, and had the best view of what happened next.

The stone platform beneath their feet split apart with a low groan, and came apart into five sections. The four veteran warriors were moved apart from one another as Amy remained at center, each of them confined to a single platform, drifting amongst other platforms littering the stream like flotsam.

The flames lining the walls began to contort, leaning sharply as though blasted by soundless winds as the stone platforms floated away from one another, each down a separate dark path. The five barely had time to utter a single sound before their impromptu vessels began to move rapidly apart from one another, and they dared not attempt to leave their platforms for fear of falling into the water in their heavy armor. As Siegfried's platform jerked violently into movement, his torch tumbled from his grasp and extinguished beneath the waves. All he saw was darkness, and all he heard was the screeching sound of his vessel coming to a halt somewhere in the underground structure.

When he climbed atop the stone platform and the flames illuminated a new antechamber, he could see a series of stone blocks forming before his own, all drifting together to form a larger stone platform, one with four columns atop it, reaching toward the ceiling, each baring a torch of its own, but revealing nothing more than ancient, crumbling stone.

Needless to say, Siegfried knew that there was no possible way that stones could float, much less arrange themselves in such a manner. The separation of the first platform and the creation a single pathway for Siegfried to follow implied that something intelligent was at work here.

Discouraged and daunted, yet having no other options, Siegfried progressed forward, drawing the Requiem from his back. The gaps of water between each stone were small, and he had but to take a few long strides as to reach the center, glancing up at the ceiling above him. The stone blocks comprising it slide aside like everything else, dust dribbling down, but betrayed no source of light, no sun beyond the rock.

He gained his bearings as best he could. This chamber was connected to the first room, and had two more paths leading in opposite directions, but the illumination only spread far enough to show empty water canals with a few broken blocks drifting or leaning against larger, more solid walls. The far wall was empty, and all he could see was darkness without curvature. As he tried to make sense of this bizarre place, his concentration was suddenly shattered by a disturbingly familiar voice.

"I'm in a very foul mood."

Siegfried turned around at once but found nothing to hold his sight. There was only shadow and water, and the only sound of water splashing against the stone platform.

"You will regret not killing me when you had the chance."

Siegfried gripped tightly to the hilt of the Requiem, glancing in every direction. Everything around him seemed static, and the sound was not echoing as sound should in such a large chamber.

At first, Siegfried contemplated whether his madness was growing. Then, he noticed a shadow beneath him that was not his own, and rolled away, just as something dropped down and broke apart the stone, cutting a deep gash in the platform.

As Siegfried recovered, what he saw was not human. It was vaguely humanoid, but completely black, visible only because of the dim firelight. It had arms and legs and a vaguely oblong head, and it spoke with no apparent mouth.

"Welcome," it greeted in that quiet, un-reverberating tone. "Let us celebrate your demise."

The black thing extended one arm, and its hand seemed to extend, and that shape took a different form, becoming thinner...and the blackness that seemed to compose this entity melted away revealed only cold steel, and the thin blade of a rapier.

That blackness melted away, a human hand emerging from beneath. That hand was attached to a muscled, fair-skinned arm held by a green, ornately designed sleeve, a part of a coat with long tails almost like a cape.

And when the creature's head emerged, Siegfried recognized the face. This is not possible, he thought, as he recalled the events a few short weeks beforehand, when he'd been told that this man had been dead, and even observed his decapitated corpse.

But then, Siegfried had killed him once before, too...

"You have failed, but I will not," he promised, smiling with his simple arrogance and overbearing malice. "I shall put an end to your misery."

"...You're...no longer human, are you?" Siegfried asked, although the answer to his query seemed obvious to him.

Raphael Sorel smiled and swung the rapier in his hand, adjusting his stance. "How does it feel to be no longer human?" he wondered aloud, before continuing: "How does it feel to be reborn?"

He thrust his rapier forth and Siegfried drew up the Requiem to block, the resulting sparks illuminating the platform.

---

Olcadan recognized the sound immediately; he'd heard it so many times he could immediately detect the subtle distinction between it and others like it, even as far away as he was. Two swords had clashed, one thin and the other broad.

At once the Ancient reacted to its master's thoughts, and each sword formed in his hand one after the other, but he suppressed the device, returning it to its binding upon each wrist. Olcadan sat cross legged, listening to the swords clang, and new at once he was not alone.

He wasn't sure how they came in or where exactly they wandered in the immense labyrinth, but they were visitors, and they obviously sought something if they were inclined to fight each other.

Olcadan could venture from the chamber he'd called his home, but he didn't see reason to bother. Surely whoever was coming was powerful...perhaps they had ventured in to do battle with him.

For the first time in centuries, he felt excited. For the first time he could recall, he was having trouble with his patience as he waited there, staring at the symbol he'd carved on the stone wall.

---

Taki was not as caught off guard as the others had been; while being dragged along by the sudden wind and the change of current she charted her course, allowing her aura to fade and re-expand along the way, allowing her to detect the residue she'd left behind. She'd traveled about four hundred meters west, but wasn't sure which direction her comrades had headed in. She wasn't sure how to reach them, but Taki would at least know which way led back out from the maze.

Her particular stone square had come to an entirely darkened chamber. Only after several seconds of allowing her eyes to adjust did she perceive another large platform at the chamber's center, covered entirely in shadow. Taki reached under her shoulder pad for a length of rope and to her waist for a hook, connecting the two and tying a firm knot. She flung the device out over the water and latched onto the larger platform, swinging herself over without getting her feet wet.

As soon as she landed on the darkened platform, a light shone down upon her. Taki glanced up, but could not see a point of origin; the light was leveled downwards but did not fall from the ceiling, remaining static in the air above her.

Taki leveled forth the Rekki-Maru, using the blade's reflection to search behind her, but she saw no change. As she stepped forward the light followed her, illuminating the ground in a small circular pattern around her. She remained mindful of her surroundings, at the ready in case...

...the light flickered ever so slightly.

At once Taki bounded forward, narrowly missing a heavy attack, crashing into the stone. As she turned to face her assailant, she saw only darkness outside her circle. She stepped forward to examine the damage; it had been cut, struck by a thick blade.

Why did she see no reflection of a weapon in the darkness? Why did she hear no breathing or footsteps? Even demons made sounds when they moved across the ground.

The light flickered again, and Taki dove to her right. Another attack struck the ground where she'd once stood, coming from the opposite side of the previous attack. Was there more than one assailant?

Taki had trained to fight blind, but in that situation she'd been taught to use her other senses. She couldn't hear any movement, and the only smell she could detect was the decay of the water around the stone.

She had nowhere to retreat to, she was surrounded, and facing down opponents she could not perceive. Some might have given in to panic in such a situation, but Taki merely reached to her waist and selected a flask on her belt, adding a few components to it. If there was no light to illuminate her foes, she would create light.

---

Ivy's single stone had drifted to a thin stone pathway, with four columns each illuminated by a single torch and stretching up to the roof. There was a stone railing separating each column, though the side Ivy had ended up before had crumbled away, and she easily stepped onto the surface.

At once, Ivy reached into the armor on her arm and searched for what components she was carrying on her. Her miniature lab was back at their camp, but she had a few vials on her person; one of acid, the other of her specialized white phosphorus, and the other containing a pure sodium crystal. The Valentine in her hand was already reacting to her anxiety, the blades breaking away and encircling her to create a sort of barrier, thin though it was.

However, as she walked along the pathway she saw nothing of interest...but heard the water growing more tumultuous around her. She reacted at once, sending one of her blades to skim the water's surface, but it did nothing more than create a mild disturbance as the waves crashed against the stone with increasing fervor.

The water lapsed over the furthest guard railing, and in a swift movement swept it away, dragging the stone into the dark depths.

Up from the water emerged a limb, completely black and exceptionally flexible, like some sort of liquid transforming into a solid. A vaguely humanoid body followed the dark 'arm' and climbed up onto the platform.

"Wretched soul..." it breathed in a familiar voice.

And the black coat faded, replaced by faded gray skin with a blue tint, the necrotized flesh of a man whose aging had stopped but whose evil will continued to endure, empowered by the part of Soul Edge he was forever bound to.

When his white eyes opened and locked onto her, Ivy felt fear replace her façade of confidence, as she watched a man she'd killed adjust his hat and level a cursed sword to her.

"My child," he greeted. "Are you ready to return your cursed blood and power to me? It is the only destiny I ever intended for you to fulfill..."

Ivy glared at him and reconstructed her blade, leveling it right back at him. "Why are you back?"

"I endure," Cervantes answered simply. "And no watery grave is enough to hold the master of the sea."

The battle was still fresh in Ivy's mind. That battle at sea...the scant few months between then and now seemed like an eternity. All of her traumatic experiences had come out at once that rainy night, and she had found the perfect outlet for releasing the emotions she had long inhibited. Cervantes, the monstrosity she had been unable to deny her entire life, the man who had cursed her to live tainted by Soul Edge, the monster who had raped her mother...she had finally toppled him, killed him. For a few, fleeting moments, Ivy felt at peace knowing his evil no longer tainted the world.

Except, of course, in her own blood.

And now, standing before her, revived somehow by whatever force was at work in this stone structure.

Her past just wouldn't seem to let her go…

---

Sophitia Alexandra encountered a smoother journey than her comrades, but ended up in a far stranger place. The only platform was the one she stood upon, drifting through the water like a raft, passing through the dank, nearly pitch-black halls of the watery labyrinth. She wasn't sure what to search for amongst the darkness, but remained alert, sword and shield at the ready. Without much to look at, she listened intently for any changes...anything other than the constant splashing of water.

In the distance a few torches illuminated the hall, as her stone continued drifting forward, towards another chamber.

When it struck a larger platform and came to a halt, Sophitia stepped cautiously off and wandered forward into the darkness, looking around for anything remarkable, but found only empty darkness, crumbling stone, and the smell of mildew. She circled the perimeter of the platform and then looked back at the route she came, trying to retrace her journey and find some way back to her comrades.

As she turned to examine a far wall, she noticed a new source of light, other than the omnipresent torches on the walls. The glow of the light was red and dim...but in addition to color and luminosity, it also carried with it a property that few lights have been none to possess: malevolence. It was a sinister light, a baneful light, an ominous glow that shined with gloom and menace.

Situated at the center of this light was a stone alter that housed a weapon. It was a blade she'd seen once before, held high in Cervantes' hand. Then, when still encased in its steel shell, she hadn't seen the flesh that extended out from it, revealing its true state as a living organism. She hadn't seen the single eye at its center, at least not so clearly.

When this solitary eye turned its iris upon her, all the blood drained from her face, and her heart literally stopped during that moment. The aura of power she'd felt several times before was nowhere near as strong as the waves of force that this blade emitted. Sophitia didn't recall this level of force when it Cervantes had wielded it, nor when it had separated and possessed Ivy, nor when Yun Seong had taken hold of it; what she beheld now was the full power of Soul Edge in its purest form. Even without a wielder – or, rather, a _host _– its energy and its will still affected everything around it.

"_**Heed me, Sophitia Alexandra." **_Boomed a voice that reverberated not against the walls of the labyrinth, but against the inside of Sophitia's skull. _**"Heed the words of Soul Edge."**_

"_**I hold many souls within me. Those that do not reside inside the confines of my being are tied to me by the threads of fate. Those souls that I have touched, but not taken, are bound to me forevermore."**_

"_**To destroy me is to destroy every soul within me, and every soul I have ever been tied to,"**_ Soul Edge continued. _**"Even the souls I have yet to claim...those of Isabella Valentine...Siegfried...and yes...your children."**_

The sword's last words struck her harder than the baneful energy possibly could. No weapon or blow could cause her so much pain as to know her children were in any sort of danger.

"_**I know that you wish to destroy me,"**_ Soul Edge 'said'. _**"You are not the first and you will not be the last. Yet to kill me is to kill your children, your comrades...and yourself."**_

_This cannot be real_, Sophitia thought to herself desperately. _This must be an illusion. A trial, perhaps. Could this be a test from the gods?_ This maze was doubtlessly supernatural, and the power she'd sensed clearly belonged to more than just one individual. Was this entire structure one entity that sought to bring her despair?

Yet, this energy she felt, the evil aura, the voice, the mixture of flesh and steel...it all felt and looked real, even if she continued to convinced herself otherwise.

"_**Can you destroy me, Sophitia Alexandra? Knowing that to kill me is to kill your present and your future? You always wanted to protect your children, and now the only way to do that is to allow me to persist, to abide my carnage. The only future you or your children have is under my thrall."**_

"_**But know," **_Soul Edge continued. _**"That I am not an entirely unmerciful being. I will swear an oath to you in return for your assistance, Sophitia. I will agree to not add your children to my butchery, if you will but perform one task for me: Become my vessel. Be the instrument of my ascension." **_

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. And if it was, she could never agree to it.

Soul Edge was the enemy of the whole world. Her host of allies had certainly proven that, and their journeys had always led them to some victim of Soul Edge's taint. To destroy it was surely worth her life.

But...no mother could ever bring harm to her children. She'd carried them, seen them when they arrived into the world, and held them in her arms. That knowledge and that experience felt all the better when she saw them return home every day and she put them to sleep.

To lose that...she didn't want to think about it.

It made her irrational.

It made her terrified.

It made her obedient.

---

Amy's stone platform had drifted into a formation of other stone platforms, not linked together but scattered throughout the chamber, some too far away to be clearly visible. She had no idea how to react or what to expect, so she merely waited on her platform, sitting down and getting as comfortable as she could on the hard stone.

It wasn't that different from firm soil at night, she rationalized; as cold and unfeeling as any of the other terrain she'd rested on since she 'd left her papa's castle. It had been a definite step down from lying in a warm, comfortable bed with fine silk sheets and a heavy comforter, but if it allowed her to pursue the woman who killed her father, it would suffice.

Amy's only rationale for entering this temple was the protection of her group, but now it seemed they had all been divided. Undoubtedly the others were fighting off some other warriors or aberrations and regrouping, and eventually they'd come and collect her. It wasn't that different from most other days, to wait for the others to guide her. Without them, she really would have no idea where to proceed or how to deal with any other human beings. Even she was aware she was not normal...and it wasn't simply a result of the taint of Soul Edge her papa had dragged back with him. She was not like the other young girls she'd seen, all so carefree and content, even in the most dire of straits, and even when faced with evil as great as Soul Edge.

They were all so naïve, so complacent. They'd yet to experience such painful isolation as to be alone...first to know her birth parents were gone, and then to know the only man she cared for had been on death's door, and then destroyed almost as soon as he'd recovered by another evil, all because of the cursed sword.

Amy had been tempted to take it, but upon witnessing what happened to Yun-seong, she decided to let Siegfried and his companions destroy it instead. When the opportunity arose, she would kill that vile blue-haired woman, and her papa's soul could be at peace.

Though young, she had some idea of what infatuation and love were. And Siegfried, serious and stern though he often was, softened when he thought of that woman, Tira. Amy recognized that longing, regretful look...it was her very reflection.

She would have revenge, even if that wouldn't make her happy and would drive that man further into despair. It was only a restoration of balance; a repayment of a debt.

It was fair. Not just, perhaps, but fair. Her papa had raised her with the understanding that most of humanity would never accept her anyway, so there was no need to justify her actions to anyone but herself.

A few of her companions had killed before and seemed no worse for the wear. What was the worst that could happen? The worst blood could do would be to stain the fine garments her papa bought her.

Somewhere in the darkness, Amy heard laughter. She stood up, drawing her rapier, the Albion, and leveled it forth.

A flash of green passed in the dark, landing on one of the many drifting platforms beyond her. A girl smiled at her, the unmistakable purple eyes and green lips positively aglow.

"I've come to give you your chance," Tira told her. "I can't wait to see you die; it's going to look incredible."

With astonishing maneuverability, Tira bounded along the platforms, agile and flexible, her every leap carefully judged and flawlessly executed. In her attire, Amy couldn't move with such grace, and instead waited for her foe's attack.

---

Siegfried's heavy Zweihänder might have been enough to snap a rapier in two, given the appropriate level of force. Raphael, however, was always careful when parrying, so as to strike the flat edge of the blade and only avoid as much as was strictly necessary. Raphael was much faster than Siegfried to boot, constantly changing his stance and weaving in between Siegfried's strikes.

"What a joke," Raphael observed. "I guess without the power of Soul Edge to guide your attacks, you're not much of a warrior."

Insults were common in battle. Inconsequential utterances designed to disturb those with weak minds. Whatever this aberration was, Raphael or not, it was just trying to divert his attention long enough to deliver a crippling blow. Siegfried paid the words no mind.

Siegfried swung more forcefully in horizontal arc. Raphael had no choice but to block rather than parry the offensive, and the strength of Siegfried's attack sent him skidding back along the stone. Siegfried charged after him, holding the Requiem aloft in preparation for a second, vertical attack, but Raphael dodged to the left, rolling along the ground and then righting himself with the aid of one of the four pillars.

"Though there's still plenty of evil left in you," Raphael observed. "Still so much darkness...there's barely anything left to taint."

Siegfried swung again and Raphael parried, swinging his rapier in hand and drawing back to deliver a final, piercing strike.

Until Siegfried lifted one foot and kicked Raphael squarely in the chest, knocking him off the stone platform and down into the water. Once there, 'Raphael' was torn apart in the current, several dark globs separating and his human form becoming lost amidst the waves.

Siegfried barely had time to contemplate this as the stones floating around him rearranged, forming a path away from the platform and towards another hall, a lit chamber flickering in the distance.

Siegfried did not wish to follow whatever path was being laid out for him, but really had no other choice. He stepped forward, sword still in hand, and progressed down this new passageway.

---

Olcadan felt every change in the stone behind him. Unlike the majority of the networked tunnels in this labyrinth, his chamber had a solid stone pathway over the water, rather than a series of interconnected platforms. He'd ventured out of it before, when exploring his prison, but had not seen it since he'd begun his slumber.

He'd awoken only seven years prior, and to him, seven years felt like a few weeks. He knew that time flowed around him just as the waters flowed beneath him, but he did not trouble himself with the notion; he was such a powerful warrior even time could barely halt his advance. To wait here and focus his mind and be better in touch with his surroundings; so long as he had so much life left in him, the amount of time it took was trivial.

Yet, the Ancient was growing restless...it reacted to the sound of every weapon, constantly changing.

And indeed, battle was close at hand...

---

Taki lit the fuse and drew back, covering her ears. The explosion was small, but served its purpose, as the extension of flames illuminated the darkened platform, revealing...

...nothing.

Taki saw no enemies revealed by her illumination. There was nothing but empty stone. Whatever her assailants were, they evidently moved faster than she did.

Taki didn't want to expend quite so much energy, but she had to light up the area somehow and find a target. She began the necessary hand motions, drawing on her spiritual energy and channeling it to her palms.

The spotlight she stood in flickered as attackers came from either side.

Taki extended both hands and unleashed a spherical charge, creating a veil around herself and expanding it outwards in rapid motion, encapsulating the entire platform. As Taki glanced around, she saw nothing...but she could feel attacks continuing on her spiritual barrier, striking with so much force as to suggest hundreds of weapons were striking her.

She didn't want to lessen her shield, but Taki had to strike back somehow. She lowered one arm and selected the appropriate sutras from her waist and prepared, for she would be illuminating the entire chamber and purifying the area as well.

She drew her spirit's power back to her hands and let it flow into the sutras. Instead of attacking the omnipresent shadows, she flung the sutras upwards, towards the single spot of light.

That light too flickered and vanished when struck. The darkness retreated from the platform to the ceiling, gathering together into a strange, dark blob. Taki refocused and launched several more sutras at it, constraining the strange entity and pinning it to the ceiling.

The stones began to shift in the water before her, forming a pathway towards a corridor in the distance, newly lit.

_Whatever this darkness is, it isn't controlling the labyrinth's movements,_ Taki observed. _They're connected to one another, somehow. Perhaps this labyrinth is testing us?_

When no longer focused on the battle, Taki remembered the aura, growing stronger as she approached.

_Or perhaps someone __**in**__ this labyrinth is testing us…_

---

Sophitia had paced for several moments, the eye of Soul Edge following her every move. She had been considering, contemplating her future.

And her children's future.

**"Grasp my hilt and become my servant."** The voice of the sword boom, echoing from one side of her mind to the other. "**Take me in your hand...and then I shall keep my promise."**

The voice was deep and strong. It was harsh and blunt. But it was nonetheless extraordinarily persuasive.

Sophitia had faced temptation before. She had been unable to resist the fit body of a handsome man after suffering from a disloyal spouse. But this was beyond temptation: this was a bargain to spare the lives of her children, and even though she knew she couldn't trust the one proposing this deal, she could not resist what he was offering her.

She reached her hand towards the hilt.

---

Ivy's attacks had yielded no reward. Her monster of a father seemed to feel no pain at all as Ivy chipped away his flesh. Whether it was the will of Soul Edge or the will of Cervantes de Leon that made this undead pirate indestructible was debatable...the last time they fought he'd been just as monstrous, just as unstoppable. Ivy had been perfunctory then, mechanical and automatic in her fighting style; easily bested. She had adapted to a more organic style of combat since then in order to reduce the chance of her defeat in battle, an approach that had served her well in all cases except against the few foes who outclassed even her undead father.

Ivy had always hated to feel inadequate. Even when she'd spent most of her life alone, she hated personal failure more than anything else. Her current comrades may not have cared much whether she successfully defeated a specific foe, but Ivy herself always compared her success ratio to theirs'. Taki and Siegfried were victorious in nearly every battle, and though none of them may have been strong enough to defeat the likes of Zasalamel in single combat, they'd been able to hold their own.

Was it because she was tainted by evil? Tainted specifically by this man, Cervantes, that she could not advance?

No. No one could match her willpower. Her ambition. Her ingenuity.

Ivy reached into one of the compartments inside her gauntlet and selected the single shard of pure sodium. She attached it to one of her Valentine's prongs and sent it forth, preceded by several other blades cutting a deep gash in her 'father's chest. He continued on, laughing that wretched laugh of his, as his daughter's clever mind spun into motion. Now that Ivy had planted the weapon, she just needed to add its ammunition...

Ivy needed to fester momentum, so she kept up a ceaseless attack on Cervantes, her weapons akin to an immense barrier of one blade after another. Such a constant attack would wear her out in a matter of minutes, but if her plan worked, she'd only expend as much energy as she needed.

Cervantes continued to laugh. "And to think, I need to defeat you? You'll defeat yourself for me..."

And then Ivy stopped. Cervantes had continued to press his attack, but there was nothing there to strike. He continued forward, stumbling, until Ivy combined her blades into one sword again and delivered a strike to Cervantes' back, knocking him from the platform into the water, chest first.

The sodium contacted the hydrogen. The heat generated forced the oxygen atoms to band together and then expand, and then blast up, away from the heat. In less than a second, a complex chemical reaction occurred, and a miniature explosion blew apart Cervantes' chest.

It was a perfect plan – and yet it never transpired. As soon as 'Cervantes' hit the water, his body separated into several dark globs, scattered away from each other by the current.

Not her father...no, something more complex. But it mattered not.

Whatever it was, it was only another element to be examined, broken down, and dissected, and then used.

The shadows on the walls sent a new humanoid shapes down to confront her, undeterred by her efforts. There was more darkness in her soul than any of the others', so they would continue to torment her.

And Ivy, for her part, was willing to continue.

---

Siegfried stepped towards the light and away from whatever darkness was allowing these anomalies to fester. What he found was a smaller chamber, where some manner of avian creature sat cross-legged on the stone floor.

At once it stood up, Siegfried took in its appearance. It was very much like a tall, powerfully built man, save of course, for a strange, owl head and enormous talons for feet. When it turned it extended its fists, and the gauntlet on each of its wrists radiated with energy.

"I don't know who you are, but I suggest you stay away for your own good." it warned.

Siegfried was tired of dealing with semi-human enemies at this point, and was more direct than usual. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with you. Move or I will cut you down."

"So!" the owl-headed man mused, assuming a battle stance. "You're challenging me to a fight? You'd better be prepared for the consequences."

Siegfried hadn't really expected an alternative to present itself, and hefted the Requiem. The two stared each other down for several moments before moving forward, sword and arm extended to begin their bout.


	56. The Ancient

There was a time when Siegfried would have been stunned to see metal transform in size and shape, shifting and changing as fluidly as water. But Siegfried's countless clashes with the supernatural had desensitized him to such paranormal events. He knew not if the owl-headed man before him was a superhuman, a monster, or an illusion, but he would not let himself be shaken by the bizarre display occurring on the man's wrists.

The gauntlets that adorned owl-headed man's wrists extended outward, transforming into long, heavy rods, not unlike the tonfas Talim had once wielded. He lunged forward and launched a series of fast strikes, delivering several blows within the blink of an eye. Siegfried could barely block the bizarre man's assault, and the wide frame of the Requiem was the only thing that kept the attacks from getting through.

When the man's flurry of blows proved ineffective, he drew back, returning his gauntlets to normal, only to shift them once again. He joined his hands and the metal drew into his grasp, taking the shape of a long, thin blade, akin to the Chinese _jian_ Xianghua had briefly held to Siegfried's neck. He began a series of equally speedy strikes, but with longer range. Siegfried quickly grew exhausted from the exertion required to parry such swift attacks, and he was being forced back along the platform quickly. This man showed no sign of fatigue as he continued an offensive that would have drained the energy of any other combatant within moments. When Siegfried finally saw an opening to strike back, his foe leapt away, landing easily on his talons and immediately resuming his attack, forcing Siegfried on the defensive again. When Siegfried finally did strike, the owl-headed man blocked the attack, and – despite having a much lighter weapon – held his ground easily.

"You learned to fight in some sort of military, I think." The man observed. "Your attacks are very direct."

Siegfried did not reply, and continued to press the attack. The owl-headed man held his ground without a sign of effort, and smirked. "Not very creative – I guess this won't be much fun." He finally retreated, the sword shrinking down and once again becoming the gauntlets at his wrists, only to transform again into a heavy axe, nearly as tall as the man himself. "Don't worry; I'll be quick."

Even holding a weapon of that size, he still moved faster than Siegfried. When their weapons clashed, it was the blonde man who faltered, his strength less than this axe's weight.

Siegfried tucked and rolled, keeping an eye on the sack he'd left at the entrance to the chamber. Whoever this man was, he seemed unaware of the Soul Embrace. And Siegfried noted that while this man had a powerful aura, he didn't seem to radiate evil energy as many of Soul Edge's host and minions had. He wasn't evil, but he was still attacking him, so Siegfried had to fight back.

This warrior was powerful, but Siegfried saw no reason to presume that he was undefeatable.

---

Taki stepped towards the illuminated hall, drawn by the sounds of fighting, when the area turned dark once more. No light hung over her, but several of the torches were extinguished, and the darkness shifted apart and separated, dropping a small portion of itself onto the ground before her. She drew back, readying the Rekki-Maru.

That darkness lifted itself, transforming into a more humanoid appearance, albeit one contained in a heavy suit of blue armor. Strikingly familiar armor, by all the accounts she'd heard from her comrades...she had never personally laid eyes on the abomination, after all.

His deformed right arm ending in a malformed, three-clawed hand and the massive sword he clutched in his free hand were what revealed his identity. Though it was now but a pale phantom of its former self, the silhouette of Soul Edge was unmistakable. With no human form beneath the armor, Soul Edge and the Azure Knight were at last truly one entity.

"We meet again…" Nightmare greeted, "…although, this time, I am bereft of a host – and thus there are no vitals for you to strike. Your training will be useless."

"Not completely," Taki replied, sounding much more confident than she felt. She drew purification sutras from her waist and thrust them forth. Nightmare sliced them aside without much effort.

"You insult me." Rumbled the voice from Nightmare's helmet. "Do not be so impudent as to assume that you could even so much as scratch me." He extended his unaltered arm, pointing it at her. "Battle would be futile; you are already destined to become part of me. You are already tainted by my influence, even if you cast the shard aside..."

Taki recalled the Mekki-Maru. Nightmare seemed to remember what had become of his shards, even when the sword was separate from its evil will.

"Offer your soul!" Nightmare instructed, as he began his charge. Taki moved aside, but the energy pouring from him – the darkness – pushed her back with the force of a strike. She recovered quickly and slashed, but only left a gash in armor, striking no discernible form underneath.

Taki tried a second strike with her kodachi, but Nightmare blocked the next strike with his heavy sword, and forced her back to the ground with only one arm. She shot back up, only for Nightmare to knock her away with the flat of his blade, sending her tumbling back without much effort.

The blows weren't fatal; indeed, he hadn't made effort to cut her at all. He wanted her alive...was he looking to use her for a host, or would he absorb more energy from her if she were still living when he took her soul? She wasn't sure how Soul Edge's parasitism worked, but the demons she'd encountered before could continue to exist in dead bodies, and animate them as needed. Soul Edge was nothing but its will, operating an empty suit of armor, forced to gather souls to endure. Though weaker than before, with no human to damage, Taki had to wonder if the Azure Knight felt pain at all.

She glanced at a pouch on her waist, where she kept a few of the purified Soul Edge shards. Though they were certainly not on the level of Soul Calibur, they would help to some extent...Taki reached forth, grabbed a single shard, and prepared to graft it to Rekki-Maru.

Nightmare reared back to attack again, but she flung a sutra at his armored forehead. Unable to cut it away in time, Nightmare cried out as the ward burned into the metal...and that metal collapsed, transforming into incongruous dark blobs, moving apart and then reforming, sliding away from her.

Taki flung four sutras at the darkness, ensnaring it as she had the last one. Though contained, the darkness still fought against her spiritual barrier, with far greater fervor than the last.

Taki considered the purified shard in her hand, and held it towards the darkness, and it sank down, trying to conceal itself. When she pulled the shard away it resumed its unrelenting attack on her barrier.

The darkness was reacting to Soul Edge...the purified shard had stifled it, but undoubtedly the cursed shards strengthened it. This darkness was tied to Soul Edge, but how?

She had no idea what this darkness was, but if it could draw strength from Soul Edge, she would need to secure the Soul Embrace immediately. While in its dormant state, the blade would not affect the rest of the world around it, but with so much evil energy around, the balance could be tipped.

She would also need to make sure Sophitia and Ivy were well. They, more than Siegfried or Amy, were tied to the cursed sword. But that would wait.

For now, she headed towards the sounds of fighting, lighting the darkness before her and heading towards a single lit chamber at the end of the hall.

---

While Amy was not in pain from the injury on her right calf, her reduced mobility was becoming quite distressing. Tira was bouncing along the scattered stones as easily as she walked on the ground, while Amy could scarcely remain standing. It was all she could do to parry and block, and Tira's ringblade made it hard to determine in which direction an attack would come from. The young girl's hatred of this woman and concern for her own life was all that kept her in the fight.

"Don't worry, this'll be over quickly," Tira told her. "You can join your Papa and be happy."

Amy glared at her. "I won't be happy until you're dead."

"Okay, so you can still join the only person you care about," Tira rationalized. "You're still too young to beat me. You tried to attack too early, and it cost you."

"I'm not dead yet," Amy pointed out.

"Oh, but you will be," Tira promised, as she attacked again, and Amy dropped to the ground to avoid having her head lobbed off. "It'll be swift, and it'll be painless. You won't even know it."

Amy climbed back up as Tira landed on another rock, seemingly without fatigue after so much leaping. She remained enthusiastic at all times, smiling like a demon about to devour a meal.

Amy wanted so badly to kill this woman, but she did so with a sense of purpose. Why did Tira intend to kill her? Was it for revenge after Amy managed to get the better of her? Or was it to pass the time?

No, there was no reason. Though a ravenous lunatic, Tira usually had some reason for killing. And unless her evil unseen Master ordered it, she wouldn't have devoted effort to tracking them into this labyrinth.

Tira shot forward to attack. Amy ducked again, but this time held her Albion up and made a small, insignificant cut into Tira's leg. Barely more than a deep scratch.

When Tira landed on the next stone over, she landed on both feet. Though light, the weight she placed on her bone and muscle caused blood to flow out, and her leg weakened. She slipped and tumbled into the water.

And when Amy looked to see where the current would take her, she saw only a dark mass, separating and dispersing beneath the surface.

Not Tira after all...just a manifestation of evil.

The disparate platforms connected together, forming a single pathway. New illumination emerged, and Amy limped forward, glancing at the shadowed walls around her.

This meager victory brought her no satisfaction. It was a cheap imitation...and all it did was make her want to kill Tira all the more. Rather than grant her some relief, all she felt was frustration.

She'd still have to grow stronger and find the real thing. She'd gotten the better of Tira before, and surely with a few more weeks of training she'd be able to deliver the killing blow.

That alone was the only thing that could bring her peace.

---

The darkness radiated within its new host as Sophitia walked forward, grasping the manifestation of Soul Edge and dragging it along the ground. Though it had trouble controlling her motor functions, contact with the cursed residue within her was making the process smoother.

They were moving her towards their targets, gathering together. The energy that had sustained them before had begun to wane, but so much evil had gathered to them they could absorb it and continue to exist.

The alternative was to disperse, and return to nothing. Existence was preferable to nonexistence.

This woman was a capable combatant, and her comrades would be hesitant to strike. She could prey on their darkness, and after a protracted combat, they could add draw the others into the darkness and sustain them.

Starting with the white haired woman...

---

Siegfried dropped to a knee, able to stand only with the help of his sword to balance his weight. The man with the owl head was now wielding two blades, almost as Cervantes had, his gauntlets shifting whenever Siegfried would change strategy. While he was sweating and breathing heavily, the owl-headed man showed no sign of fatigue, looking down at him calmly.

"Don't take it personally," the man said. "You fought well, but you were out of your league from the start. I am Olcadan – the strongest man in the world! This was the only possible result."

"Strongest in the world..." Siegfried muttered in between gasps for air. "Why are you down here?"

"The gods were afraid of me." He answered. "They cursed me with this appearance and locked me up in this forsaken place."

"But the entrance is open," Siegfried replied. "You could leave at any time..."

"I've been asleep for centuries; my muscles have become stiff and my reflexes slow." The owl-headed man replied. "I decided to train here for a while among the shadows until my skill had returned – and because I was able to best you in combat, perhaps the time has come to conclude my 'exercise' here."

"Siegfried was not at his best when he fought you."

Both Siegfried and Olcadan glanced toward the direction of the voice to behold Taki emerging into the room, her Rekki-Maru at the ready. "Schtauffen lost some stamina on his way to meet you, battling abominations. Do not judge your strength against a man who is weary from battle – judge your strength against my own. My reserve will make for a better challenge."

"You ask me to judge my strength against that of a _woman_?" Olcadan replied curtly. "I refuse to fight you. Women are not warriors. You may hold your blade properly, but there is no way you could possibly pose a decent challenge."

"You are not the first and you will not be the last to speak such words," Taki said firmly, "But you have assaulted my comrade, and I will make sure that you pay for it appropriately."

"Oh, _really_?" The owl-headed man said snidely, his owl-like features forming a sarcastic expression.

"Yeah, _really_." The Japanese warrior replied sternly, showing no sign of fear or doubt.

Olcadan's gauntlets changed again, mimicking Taki's short sword. "Fine, woman. You asked for it."

Siegfried bore no ill will toward the overconfident warrior, and feared that even Taki would not be able to match his combat ability, but their scuffle would give him the opportunity to secure the Soul Embrace. He drew away from the two of them as they readied their weapons.

As Olcadan leapt forward to attack, Taki ducked and lashed out with the Rekki-maru, cutting into the man's impressive chest and leaving a deep gash.

Siegfried and Olcadan both were awestruck. Siegfried had been unable to land a single blow, and Taki had hit on her first try – and her second, when she kicked Olcadan away and put some more distance between the two.

Olcadan recovered quickly and resumed his attack, his weapon changing once again into a longer blade, reminiscent of a katana. Taki parried the blow, though Olcadan's strength pushed her back a bit.

"Stiff muscles and slow reflexes, indeed." Taki said as she exchanged blows with the man. "How long ago did you awaken?"

"Bah, what does it matter?" Olcadan demanded in between a parry and a strike. "Time means nothing to me. It may have been months or possibly years."

"And, in that time, you set up the trials in this labyrinth?" Taki asked.

"Trials? You mean the shadows? Those abominations have nothing to do with me. In fact, I was going to ask you where they came from." Olcadan said, as he attempted to decapitate his adversary. "What sort of place has the world become in my absence, I wonder..."

Taki drew back to avoid a potentially fatal attack and then lunged forward to strike with one of her own. _So he isn't connected to those shadows, then._

As Siegfried observed the two, he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He immediately readied his Zweihänder, but lowered it when he saw that it was only Amy. She stood beside him, uncharacteristically exhibiting an expression of alarm at the sight of the owl-headed man.

Siegfried wasn't quite sure what to tell her – especially when he still had questions of his own about this perplexing situation.

---

Ivy had cut down many of the dark denizens, now that she knew their particular weakness. Her platform had reconnected to the rest of the stone passage and lights were illuminating her path. Though slightly worse for the wear, Ivy proceeded, and spotted her blonde haired compatriot in the hall.

"Sophitia," she called out. "Glad to see you again. Do you know where the rest of our merry band has gone to?"

Sophitia gave no reply.

Ivy was irked. "I'm talking to you, girl. Are you paying attention?"

Sophitia's head was hung low, her hair concealing her eyes. Ivy had no idea whether the Athenian woman was even awake, much less alert – until she hoisted up a heavy blade Ivy couldn't help but recognize.

"No...how…"

"_**The time is at hand,"**_ Sophitia said, raising her head to reveal eyes that glowed with the telltale hue of demonic possession. Her speech was slow, but her voice was deeper and more masculine. _**"Fulfill your destiny and return your cursed blood to me."**_

Ivy prepared her sword again. "Just when I thought I was making some progress."

The two charged, their blades clashed, they filled the darkness with their strength, the passion of their conflict, their fear, their anger, all that had birthed it, and all that now sustained it.

---

Olcadan and Taki clashed again, and once more Olcadan overpowered her. When in close quarters Taki's speed yielded little advantage, as her owl-headed foe was quick to cut her off at every turn and block her strikes.

"You're better than your friend," Olcadan conceded. "But you have even less energy left than he does."

He had been able to sense her aura. Taki knew she wouldn't be able to fight for much longer.

She heard a clash of swords not far beyond her. Her allies were facing more of this darkness, and Olcadan seemed interested only in continuing his personal battle with her.

"Schtauffen!" Taki called. "Find Ivy and Sophitia! I can hold him!"

Siegfried hesitated. He was still unsure whether the owl-headed man was truly their enemy.

"Now!" Taki called back.

Siegfried simply nodded and headed out with the Soul Embrace in tow, Amy following behind him.

Taki returned her focus to Olcadan, continuing to trade words with him even as they traded blows. "You do not know what curses this labyrinth?"

"No, but it provided me with practice and exercise – although I haven't sparred with anyone since I was trapped here, and nothing beats a real life adversary."

"So, then, will you be leaving now to seek combat?" Taki asked, as she parried another strike and kicked Olcadan away again.

"What business is it of yours'?" Olcadan demanded.

"It is my business because this place is infested with evil." Taki replied firmly. "A foul form of darkness has sprouted here, and it is my duty to stop evil where it emerges. I do not believe you are evil. If you will help me and help my comrades put a stop to the shadows here, I would be glad – " She paused to parry his attack. " – to spar with you again later."

"Comrades?" Olcadan asked. "Are they powerful warriors, too?"

"The strongest in the world," Taki answered, knowing full well how to draw him in.

---

When Siegfried and Amy found their companions, they were not expecting to see the two fighting. Although Ivy might've been easily provoked, but Sophitia was far too gentle a soul to strike someone she shared a common goal with.

To see her now, clutching a heavy blade and brandishing it without mercy was a sight Siegfried could hardly believe. Only in moving forward to prevent Sophitia from cutting Ivy down did he force himself to accept it.

"Sophitia!" he cried, grasping the Requiem with both hands, prepared to knock her blade aside if it was necessary. It was only then that he noticed the nature of the weapon Sophitia was wielding – and the single, powerful eye on her sword.

The Soul Embrace was still in his satchel, dropped on the floor beside Amy. This Soul Edge he faced now was not the real one – but evil energy nonetheless radiated from it, and now from Sophitia, the very last person Siegfried ever expected to feel such darkness from.

"_**There you are,"**_ Sophitia spoke, the voice coming form her mouth a mixture of her own and the strong, masculine voice of Soul Edge. Her eyes remained stationary and unblinking, with only the eye of Soul Edge focused on Siegfried. _**"It is time you returned to me."**_

Dark blobs fell from the ceiling, on either side of Sophitia, and began to take new shape, almost like monstrous, animated spikes, surrounding her and beginning to attack. Siegfried leapt back, blocking himself as he could with the Requiem.

"More of this darkness..." Siegfried spat.

"All damn day," Ivy replied, readying her sword. She created a barrier between herself and the nearest dark prong, slicing away at it as it tried to strike.

Siegfried, meanwhile, resumed his attack, cutting one of the dark prongs aside and raising his sword to Sophitia.

"_**Can you harm me, Siegfried, after all we've been through?"**_ she asked. Siegfried stopped in mid swing as she spoke, his grip on Requiem weakening. _**"You continue to destroy everything you love."**_

Soul Edge slashed, and Siegfried barely had time to dodge, even as more darkness fell from the walls and surrounded her, driving into her and empowering and defending her further.

"_**In the end, it is your destiny to serve me," **_Soul Edge explained. _**"Without me, you haven't got the stomach to kill this woman, and all just because you lay with her."**_ Soul Edge laughed its hideous laugh. _**"And now you never will again..."**_

Siegfried struck, and again Sophitia held up the Soul Edge to block.

"_**And that makes you so angry,"**_ she continued. _**"And your anger only empowers me. I feed off of the very fury that I cause you to feel! Your frustration at your inferiority to me only makes me that much stronger!"**_

The darkness around her began to attack again. Siegfried held up the Requiem, pushed back by several attacks at once.

"Schtauffen, get out of the way!"

Taki leapt right past him and stared down Sophitia, even as the darkness continued to build around her. Olcadan stepped over, standing beside Siegfried and briefly taking in the scene.

"Taki, what – ?"

"I know what's causing all this," Taki told Siegfried flatly. "This darkness...it's drawing strength from us. All our fear and all our doubts are allowing it to grow stronger and multiply."

Sophitia stood, uninterested in Taki's words, with the heavy Soul Edge dragging on the floor. More darkness sprouted around her, beginning to encircle Siegfried, Taki, Ivy, and Olcadan.

"And how do you propose we defeat it?" Ivy asked. "Because that's the kind of information we could actually _use_."

"Acknowledging this darkness only makes it stronger," Taki replied. "Purification arts can repel it away, but not harm it. My sutras can contain it, and what purified shards we have can drive it further away. If we – "

"Have at you!"

Olcadan jumped forward, his gauntlets taking a new shape, akin to a heavy broadsword like the one Sophitia was wielding. His weapons clashed with the phantom Soul Edge, and Olcadan forced Sophitia back, cutting aside a few of the dark prongs along the way.

"_**You finally came out of your hole,"**_ 'Sophitia' observed. _**"Unfortunately, you won't be leaving this labyrinth."**_

More darkness fell from the walls and ceiling. More energy flowed into Sophitia, and more dark forms sprouted.

"I can contain it, but I need to separate it from Sophitia first," Taki told the others. "If we can reduce the energy flowing into her somehow..."

Ivy was already at work, drawing a transmutation circle on the ground. When Siegfried and Taki noticed, she politely instructed: "Everybody get down."

She completed the rune and began charging it with kinetic energy by whirling her snake sword rapidly through the air. She slashed forward and the rune released the energy it had built up, cracking the stone beneath her, sending a jet of water bursting out. Ivy moved the stone, angling the direction of the blast right towards Sophitia. Olcadan leapt out of the way, and Sophitia was hit by the blast of water.

The darkness was ripped out of Sophitia the powerful stream. The Soul Edge she held transformed once more into dark globs, and Siegfried instantly moved forward to recover her, pulling away from the darkness.

Taki, meanwhile, bound a purified shard to her blade, and Rekki-Maru glowed brightly. "Schtauffen!" she called. "I must be propelled upward!"

"Allow me," Olcadan offered. Taki had already begun her sprint and didn't raise an objection. She leapt up, and Olcadan spun, swinging his broadswords upward to catch her feet and launch her up into the air, towards the darkness as it reconstituted itself on the ceiling.

She drove Rekki-Maru into that mass, and with her free hand cast her purification spell, flinging sutras at all four corners of the entity, ensnaring it.

"That woman's actually not half bad," Olcadan noted.

"What a flattering compliment," Ivy observed, albeit under her breath.

Ivy sealed the crack she had made in the stone beneath her and glanced at the others. Amy carried the Soul Embrace to them, disconcertingly indifferent as usual.

Taki dropped down from above, landing gracefully in the middle of the group. "We need to get out of here before this structure collapses."

"Collapses?" Olcadan echoed.

The ceiling above them began to crumble. The darkness remained pinned to the ceiling, wounded and unable to move.

"You might've mentioned this earlier!" Ivy snapped.

Taki shook her head. "It was not my intention. But now it is happening."

Olcadan had already begun to run, his taloned feet carrying him nimbly across the stone floor. Siegfried helped Sophitia to her feet while Taki lent some support to Ivy, and they followed after him, heading back to the central antechamber, the stone ceiling and pillars holding it up falling over all the more quickly. Following Olcadan's enormous bounds, the fivesome emerged out of the labyrinth, beholding sunlight again for the first time in hours.

The stone began to crumble behind them. Dust followed them as they went up the stairway and stepped out onto the beach sands once again, where Olcadan stood at the Black Sea's edge, waiting for them.

"I apologize," Taki stammered, almost appearing to be flustered. "I did not mean to cause the destruction of your abode."

"I wasn't too attached to the place anyway," Olcadan replied. "It's good to be out." He held one hand up to conceal his sensitive owl eyes from the sunlight. "This is going to take some getting used to, though. Now! About your end of our arrangement."

Taki winced. "Surely you'd allow us some rest before we begin to spar with you."

Olcadan shook his feathered head. "I'll call in the favor another time – there is far too much for me to catch up on first."

Taki breathed a sigh of relief. "If we may trouble you for just one more thing – I would like to ask you if you know anything about a weapon called Soul Edge?"

The owl-headed man scratched his chin. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Taki nodded. "I see. You are...ancient, indeed. In that case, there is something else I wish to ask of you. We are in possession of a great evil that cannot be destroyed, only purified. We have failed in all attempts to purify it thus far. Is there anything that you can recommend to us?"

Olcadan closed his eyes, and contemplated silently. Then, he spoke two very simple words in a tone of reverence: "The Cathedral."

Ivy arched her eyebrow. The others were simply puzzled.

"During a time when all the nations of the world were torn apart by warfare, those who wished for an end to the bloodshed collaborated to build a monument to peace." Olcadan began. "Their monument took the form of a cathedral, a glorious palace constructed by the most brilliant architects from all countries of the known world. The project was undertaken in secret, for the leaders of these nations would have never authorized a collaboration with the countries that they were at war with. The architects of the Cathedral wanted their construct to prove that, for all our differences, every cultures can harmonize with one another and form something magnificent when working together. However, once they finished constructing the Cathedral, they feared that their leaders would view it as an abomination. The architects realized all too late that the people of warring countries would never want to see their architecture meshed with that of their enemies. And so, they abandoned their creation, leaving it to remain a secret for all eternity, so that its beauty would never be harmed by hateful individuals who refused to accept it."

"Your history lesson has been entertaining," Ivy said dryly, "but I'm afraid we cannot use your suggestion. The Lost Cathedral is just a fairy tale."

"A fairy tale?" Olcadan laughed. "If the world believes it to be a myth, then the architects succeeded in keeping it a secret! However, I can assure you that the Cathedral does in fact exist. I would know...I have been there."

As Ivy recoiled in shock, Taki pressed Olcadan with a question. "Why would this location – fictional or not – be of any use to us?"

"You seek a powerful method of purification, do you? Then there can be no better place to travel than to the Cathedral. As I am sure you know, holy energy flows through our world with the current of water and the wind. These currents coalesce at one exact point – at this location, the nexus of all the world's spiritual energy, the Cathedral was built. Verily, it is the most holy location in the world – as far from as possible from vandals, war, or evil, and more enchanted with holy energy than anywhere else. I do not know what you seek to use purification arts for, but surely the Cathedral would be the ultimate destination for any quest that regards the cleansing of evil."

"Where might we find this Cathedral?" Taki asked.

"I almost hesitate to tell you – it's hallowed, sacred ground, after all, forsaken centuries ago and untreaded ever since. But – if you give me your word that you do not seek this location for malevolent purposes, I shall tell you where to find it."

"We seek nothing more than to rid the world of the pain and suffering wrought upon it by Soul Edge." Siegfried said. "That blade is the worst of all evils. We are committed to seeing it banished from the world."

"...I can sense that your intentions are pure." Olcadan said. "I trust you – you will bring no harm to the Cathedral." He raised one of his large, muscular arms, and pointed northwest. "The Cathedral resides an island north of where the Celts dwell."

The members of the group gazed toward one another, each one hoping that another knew what the owl-headed man was talking about.

"Celts, Celts..." Ivy muttered. "Ah! Now I recall where that word comes from. The Celts ceased to be a people around a thousand years ago. They resided in what we know today as the British Isles."

"It's going to take quite a while to catch up on things, isn't it?" Olcadan muttered dejectedly to himself.

"We thank you for this information, Olcadan." Taki said, placing her hands together and bowing slightly. "In return, I will impart this knowledge to you: there is a fighting arena several hundred miles northwest of here."

"_Arena?_" Olcadan echoed, his feathers standing on end. Without another word, he bolted off into the distance, creating a great cloud of dust at his heels as he traveled, quickly becoming only a speck on the horizon.

"...What a peculiar man," Taki noted.

"Quite," Ivy agreed. "Now – anyone have any idea what that darkness was?"

Taki shook her head, but Siegfried chimed in: "The Evil Seed."

The other two looked at him, surprised.

"Seven years ago, when I first grasped Soul Edge, my soul was not mature enough to contain the evil of the blade. The evil that I could not contain was moved from the blade. It was released into the sky, where it fell down to the Earth and caused all manner of catastrophes...it is not impossible that this release of evil, when striking the entrance to the labyrinth, could have unsealed it and poisoned it with the evil of Soul Edge."

"Plausible," Ivy agreed.

"And the lead he gave us – a cathedral, lost to time..." Taki asked.

"We aren't pursuing any other leads," Siegfried pointed out. "And from the way he described it, just setting foot there would be enough to purify Soul Edge instantly. It's worth a shot, especially with the purified shards and arts we have accumulated thus far. It will be our new destination."

---

They set up camp about half a mile from the broken labyrinth entrance. Though whatever darkness had existed in there may have still been alive, it had no means of escape and nothing to feed off of. And Taki, of course, was keeping watch, so the others very much doubted they were in any danger.

Sophitia awoke after several hours of slumber. Normally the most conversational member of the group, she was very quiet after awakening. The others did not press her for information, and none of them begrudged her for being possessed by the darkness.

But what haunted Sophitia and left her so stoic was what Soul Edge had told her. Although it was nothing more than an illusion, the real sword wasn't too far from her, sitting in a satchel beside Siegfried.

She'd hated what it had said. She knew the sword was evil and its only true intention was to consume her soul. But, lying and deceiving as it was, its words remained with her. She longed to speak to Soul Edge, either to know for certain that no harm would come to her children...or to confirm its words.

As she looked at the expressionless brown satchel, she held a hand atop her chest, the pain of her cursed wounds nothing compared to the burden now weighing on her heart.

She had to protect her children, no matter what that entailed. It was the only reason she'd come on this journey.

She cared for her comrades, but she cared for her children even more. It had always been this way.

Only now, that fact was painfully apparent to her...


	57. A Choice In Sin

**A/N:** I hope none of you have forgotten about the Greed story arc! First begun in Chapter 31 and continued in Chapter 38, this trilogy of chapters was written by Henry, an avid fan of IAYS. I'm delighted with the story he's developed (receiving fanfiction based off of my own fanfiction is rather flattering) and I've been more than happy to include it in the fic. After many chapters in-between, the conclusion to the Greed side story is finally here. Enjoy!

* * *

Greed's right arm began to twitch, and he immediately reached his left hand over to grasp his wrist, holding tightly.

_Keep it together_. He waited a few moments for the spasms to pass and for the pain to finally venture out of his mind, even if his discomfort was growing.

_I'm running out of energy. This host cannot contain my essence anymore._

Greed dropped to a knee and called for his superiors. Heeding his call from across the plane of existence that separated them from reality, they manifested around him instantaneously.

"**Report, Greed,"** instructed the tallest and most well built of the six looking down upon him.

"There isn't sufficient power to draw the rest of you here yet, and I have to admit I'm vulnerable," Greed said, head bowed low. "You will need a host if you want to influence the mortals, but that would require us to exert much of our energy; we could lose all ability to reconstitute ourselves."

"**Perhaps, but we will never cease to exist,"** a buxom female noted. **"And even in a mortal state we will be more powerful than Zasalamel or the Azure Knight."**

"That's not what concerns me," Greed chimed in. "Both of those two are single minded enough that we can subdue them. Schtauffen is my concern; so long as he retains his sanity, his possessiveness can be overridden by guilt."

"**Siegfried Schtauffen?"** the tall one demanded. **"Still you've failed to deal with him?"**

"He has proven far more resilient than I'd ever anticipated," Greed answered. "I expected that each tragedy would bring him further into my grasp, but with his comrades supporting him, he's managed to avoid that fate. Even the loss of his little concubine hasn't been enough to deter him."

"**This is your problem, Greed,"** the tall one pointed out. **"Deal with it before you enlist one of us."**

"**No,"** the curvaceous female disagreed. **"Let me assist him. If Schtauffen's covetousness cannot be tempted, we must target his libido."**

"I have a host for you, if you wish it," Greed agreed, reaching into the ground and pulling up his prize, a bloody gash running along her throat. "Her name is Miser, foolishly spared by Taki the nukenin."

"**Better than nothing,"** she surmised, fading from the council and sinking her essence into Miser's body. The red haired woman convulsed, her single eye turning deep black as the sin welled within her, consuming her spirit and contorting it to her whim.

The woman who had once been Miser sat up, examining the blade and large shuriken strapped to her back. She examined her fingers and reached up to feel her face, grimacing.

"Only one working eye, malnourished, and suffering from a throat wound," she noted. "A weak body indeed."

"Can you still transform at will?" Greed asked.

Miser's hair turned from red to deepest black. Her single eye traversed every spectrum, and her skin changed tone effortlessly. "I'll need time to work on the attire, but I should be able to change my body shape whenever it's called for."

"Then I'm glad to work with you again, Lust," Greed said approvingly. "I'll take you to the boy."

"And his compatriots," Miser agreed. "Siegfried Schtauffen isn't the only one I intend to seduce."

---

Nightmare had spoken no words to Tira upon her return to him. Speech was not required to infer that she had returned empty-handed, as she was not presenting him with the Soul Embrace, a suitable host body, or Siegfried's head. However, she bowed deeply and offered forth a few shards that she had scavenged, presumably as penance for her failure to bring him something of greater value. Nightmare took the shards and added them to Soul Edge, and then continued to travel in the direction he had been going without speaking a word to her. There was no reason to be disappointed in her or satisfied with her; she was incidental to him, similar to the winged creatures that scoured the world on his behalf; if they provided him with some form of benefit, so be it. If they proved to be useless, they were not a loss, as they had cost him nothing to begin with. This servant of his, while she had failed to retrieve what he had sent her to obtain, was still capable of delivering him souls and shards. He would not kill what could bring him an advantage. That alone kept Nightmare from adding Tira's soul to his blade...for the time being. He issued no commands to her, and the shame that Tira's failure had brought her caused her to be silent. She merely followed Nightmare in silence, assisting him in harvesting souls wherever he slaughtered.

Tira had grown used to 'forced marching' while traveling with Siegfried and their comrades, but Nightmare's daily trudges were even more strenuous. Nightmare did not 'tire' in the strictest sense, as he had no true body to expend energy with, and no muscles to stretch and strain. He marched ever on, generally in total silence. Tira followed him, and found his slow-paced stride to be her only small mercy – it was the only way she could keep up with him, especially late into the day. On some days, the only chance for her to rest was while Nightmare was slaughtering some hamlet. The screams and cries of defenseless peasants were shrill and deafening, but at least the sounds reminded her of simpler times; times when all she had to do was listen and obey, listen and obey. With dark-circled eyes she kept her gaze fixed upon her Master, ever waiting for a command as he slew the doomed townsfolk around him, growing stronger with every life he took. He had become very powerful, and soon he would test his strength against Siegfried...

The thought turned Tira's stomach. When she saw Siegfried again, and would have to either kill him herself or just watch him die. Either way, she would lose the only man she had ever loved. There was no other option; she could not return to him, and she could not defy Nightmare, her Master, and the most fearsome and terrifying force she had ever beheld. To betray him would incur his wrath and ensure her own death. Even if she wanted to flee from his command, she could not; all who encounter Nightmare are forever bound to him by fate, destined to be swallowed by his sword. To continue to serve him was the only way she could guarantee that he would not add her soul to his blade; and even then, he might simply change his mind and consume her at any time.

While the thought of making the ultimate sacrifice to serve Nightmare's will was exhilarating to Tira, the thought of death was horrifying, even if it was a death in service to her Master. She tried to shut out those thoughts, tried to ignore her destiny...but the longer she traveled with Nightmare, the more she felt as though a sword perpetually dangled above her head, held by a single string.

Tira closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep amidst all the bloodshed and chaos erupting around her. Tried to shut out the sounds of what could eventually become her fate. Tried and failed not to think thoughts of disloyalty. Tried and failed not to regret choosing Nightmare as her Master. Tried and failed not to wish for Siegfried's embrace.

---

Siegfried gazed at the mountain range not far beyond him, and saw the streams and waterfalls running along it. He had never before considered whether the rivers of the world followed a single current that converged upon a single point, and had never imagined that his journey would one day lead him to that point. He had risked life and limb across countless treacherous environments, and was relieved that for once his destination was a place of peace. Siegfried knew little about the Lost Cathedral and even less about what to expect from it, but from what he had heard, it was as good a place as any to try and purify the Soul Embrace.

They were racing against time; Zasalamel could interfere with their journey at any time, and Tira's recent appearance in Athens was proof that Nightmare was actively working against them. Though Seong Mi-na, Cassandra, and Setsuka had left their ranks, they had never been better equipped. They had met many souls along their journey, most of them their foes, but some of them their allies. They had not seen the two easterners Kilik and Xianghua for many months, but there was still hope that they would encounter them again, or receive support from them in some way. Nevertheless, Siegfried and company were moving quickly, and not relying on help from others. They simply carried with them an increased fortification for their camp, and kept their weapons in top shape.

Sophitia had begun caring for their weaponry, keeping each blade as clean and sharp as she could, emulating the techniques of her blacksmith husband. She had scarcely spoken a word since her ordeal in the Labyrinth, and had become cold and distant where she was once the one whom gave the others warmth and strength. The rest of the group was concerned for her and their curiosity about her ordeal grew by the day. She was the only one of them who had fallen prey to the remnants of the Evil Seed; had she been bewitched by Soul Edge, or had she willingly submitted to it? Now was not the time for suspicion and distrust...nor was it the time to have their journey compromised by a turncoat. The others kept their tongues still to avoid fostering strife between them and Sophitia, but their suspicion began to foster a sense of paranoia toward her.

Taki hadn't slept for days, obsessively insisting that she take the night watch duty. She had become increasingly vigilant since her tangle with Zasalamel, and almost fanatically determined to destroy him whenever he next appeared. It seemed that she didn't trust anyone to stop him but herself, and refused to allow anyone else have the responsibility of guarding their lives. The others found it to be slightly insulting that Taki did not believe them to be as capable as herself, but at the same time they acknowledged that she was their greatest asset.

Ivy remained fairly isolated from the others, devoting what little spare time she had to her studies. She had added new weapons to her arsenal along with the Valentine, with what limited alchemy she could perform. She was already able to separate the myriad pieces of her sword and reconnect them at will, and had begun taking the same approach to additional atoms in the air around her, to increase the strength of each attack by heightening its speed or the density of the air. Her decision to remain among them was somewhat perplexing to the others, considering how little she actually interacted with them. Even in closer quarters with fewer comrades to manage, Ivy remained lost in her self-imposed isolation.

Amy barely spoke a word. Sophitia tended to her needs, and she sparred with Ivy for training; there was little else to be said about her. She was a rapidly becoming capable combatant, and less dependent on the others as well.

Their once nightly fire had been drastically toned down, as they didn't want to leave anything for Tira to track in case their former ally was still searching for them. The ashes were interspersed with dirt, the remains of wood destroyed and scattered in forests. Their meals no longer consisted of meats of any kind, only fruits and vegetables and breads that could be entirely consumed without leaving evidence. Nightmare's flying servants could certainly track them anyway, but any delays on their part could be the difference between making it to the Lost Cathedral or losing Soul Embrace.

Siegfried still laid out his tent in the same manner, with room for himself and for Tira, even if she was long gone. The empty ground beside him was a constant reminder of that failure, that personal shame. He lay there each night, occasionally taking Ivy in Tira's place. They were not ashamed of appeasing each other's desires, knowing each day could very easily be their last.

Perhaps it was with that in mind Ivy stepped into his tent in the dead of night. She was quiet, almost sardonically so. Though he generally expected to hear witty remarks from her, Ivy didn't need to provide a reason why she was there. He knew that she intended to make use of him, and she knew that he would comply, and nothing needed to be said.

One might've thought that overexposure to so many beautiful bodies would dull Siegfried's interest, and lessen the appeal to him. Yet Ivy's tantalizing form remained a constant object of his desire, as it had been the night he'd met her. The night she'd fought Tira in the arena. The night she'd seduced him, the first time he'd willingly allowed himself to be used so he could curb his lust. And the many times after that when he'd taken her, unable to resist her form.

As he took her in his tent, enjoying the pleasure her body wrought, Siegfried's thoughts drifted, as they always had when he engaged in coitus. He knew the pleasure he'd receive and the eventual release would quell such troublesome thoughts, so he waited them out as he continued his thrust.

_If we finally end the threat of Soul Edge, my comrades and I will separate, and return to our lives. If I am successful in my task, will I ever see this woman again? Verily, that accursed sword is the only thing that has bound us together._

_Our lives have become so completely defined by that cursed blade. We've spent years interconnected by it, even if we didn't know it at the time. I took that sword from the cold dead hand of this woman's father. I travel with the two women who personally battled him before I even got there. Thanks to the sword, we have become comrades, and occasionally, lovers. We all fight against the sword, the very thing that brought us all together in the first place. Its destruction will sever that bond and end the relationships between us._

_And when that happens, I'll never do this again with any of them. Sophitia has her husband, and Ivy and Taki show no interest in love or progeny. They'll devote themselves to their crafts, to their ambitions...but not to me. When all of this comes to an end, I'll be alone again._

Ivy's hands roamed over the muscles of his back. Her nails breached his skin, adding fresh cuts to the numerous scars already marring him. He didn't mind the pricks of pain, as his introspection had dulled him to it, and dulled the pleasure as well.

_There was only one woman who was ever devoted to me, who would have stayed by my side no matter what._

Images of Tira flashed through his mind. When he'd met her on the raft passing through Ostrheinsburg, when she'd landed before him and declared how happy she was to finally find a Master she could pledge herself to.

How happy he'd felt, with Tira. Not only for the pleasure of her form, but the pleasure of her company and the sight of her smile.

Or had he just manufactured that joy, knowing she'd appease his every desire for so little effort on her part? Would he have cared for her as much as he had without her offering herself to him so readily?

Would he have ever wished to leave her side had he not agreed to Ivy's proposal that night?

As he looked at Miss Valentine writhing beneath him, Siegfried could see what drew him too her. She was beautiful, and she was strong enough to keep up with him. Their bodies were very compatible at night, as well.

Yet, during the day, he did not feel much affection for her. Ivy hardly merited it, with her cruel remarks and her dismissals of etiquette and social convention, and her constant insistence that she work alone. Perhaps that desire for isolation and that avoidance of social norms drew him to her more than that beautiful body. Her sharp mind had probably helped them more than he could remember, but her arrogance had led to several difficult situations that could've been avoided altogether if Siegfried had kept a closer eye on her.

And, of course, Ivy didn't like him, really. She didn't like anyone.

And Tira...Tira she'd hated above everyone else. Ivy had made every effort to alienate Tira, to remind the girl of her status as slave, to diminish Tira's every success and dismiss Tira's contribution. Though Tira and Ivy cooperated for the sake of their mission together, Tira had retained a deep dislike for Ivy, and had always withheld it for her Master's sake.

In that moment, in that aftermath following their release, Siegfried found no comfort...whatever pleasure he'd felt had been washed away by those memories. He felt warm, and he felt his body connected to Ivy's, and he returned to the present, albeit with thoughts weighing heavily on his mind.

Ivy had no desire to share parting words. She would enjoy the moment, but nothing more, and began preparing herself to leave as soon as their act was finished. As she dressed herself, Siegfried adjusted to a sitting position, head downcast.

"It's your fault." He whispered.

Ivy, halfway dressed, tilted her head toward the man. "Did you say something, Siegfried?"

"Isabella...everything that has happened so far is your fault." Siegfried said.

It wasn't quite rational. It wasn't a complete thought, and he hadn't stopped to scrutinize it. Saying those words made him feel better, and that was the only motivation he required.

Ivy glared at him as she clothed herself. "You didn't seem so angry before we got started, Siegfried. Very classy of you to mention a qualm with me _afterwards_..."

Siegfried pulled his covers tightly around himself and turned away from the woman. Very quietly, he uttered two simple words: "Get out."

Ivy glared resolutely at the back of Siegfried's head and finished dressing herself quickly, exiting without another word. It wasn't unusual for her to leave without parting words, but for once Siegfried had removed her of his own accord.

It felt good to be rid of her. Whatever pleasure she brought him, she counterbalanced with some annoyance, some pettiness. Siegfried felt much better having both made use of her body and subsequently thrown her out, even if it was rude.

He fell asleep, and hoped he wouldn't dream.

---

The monstrosity known as Necrid charged across the landscape without tiring, driven by the desire to possess Soul Edge once more. He held only a single fragment, and he'd so wished to integrate the blade into himself that he'd grafted the small metal shard into his chest, behind a metal armor plate. His search had been fruitless thus far for the remaining pieces, and his inarticulate nature had generally led to him slaughtering people in his way. He also occasionally slaughtered whomsoever might conceivably be in his way at some unspecified point in the future.

Necrid's exposure to Soul Edge had left him sensitive to evil energy, and he moved in pursuit of the greatest source of it. Assuredly that massive aura he sensed in the distance could only belong to Soul Edge itself.

Floating above him, monitoring his progress, sat Zasalamel, drifting effortlessly through the clouds, concealing all of his own power from Necrid. As he watched, Zasalamel admired the creature, and the uncontrollable power it possessed.

Though, that was no surprise...when Zasalamel had battled the creature, he came to a realization. Zasalamel's memories of his many past lives had become dim with time, but the memories of his first attempt to control Soul Edge were vivid; he distinctly remembered how it had overwhelmed him, consumed him, altered him, transformed him into a monster.

That monster had died long ago...yet its flesh moved on, driven by the desire for Soul Edge. While Zasalamel had been reborn in a new body, his ancient deceased body had continued on, unstoppable, permanently twisted by Soul Edge's power.

Zasalamel saw it so clearly now; that old body from eons past had become this creature, a vessel of flesh that somehow moved without a soul. Zasalamel had taken to studying Necrid when not keeping tabs on Siegfried, and fully expected Necrid to interfere in Siegfried's quest.

Necrid would have to be disposed of at some point, Zasalamel rationalized, but he could wait until the beast's Soul Edge shard had been reintegrated. Zasalamel's own shards would go along with it, and combined with Taki's purified shards would retain the balance he needed. With the two swords in harmony he could perform his ritual, as he needed the powers of both readily available...it would be only too easy to be consumed by Soul Edge again without its foil to balance the weight.

However, as he watched Necrid advance, Zasalamel was growing concerned. Necrid was not heading in the direction of the Soul Embrace, but rather of Nightmare, the very will of Soul Edge that Zasalamel had personally reanimated.

Nightmare...no other entity concerned Zasalamel as much in this multi-pronged conflict. Though vulnerable and unable to sustain himself without a stream of souls, Nightmare had proven remarkably adaptable, and his power increased dramatically very quickly, even without a host to bind his incomplete soul to. Though predictable and single minded, the will of Soul Edge would not be denied. It would reclaim its host and reconstruct itself or it would cease to exist, and Zasalamel could not allow for either outcome.

When Nightmare had first demonstrated his renewed power, it had pleased Zasalamel to the point he'd actually _smiled_, even as baneful energy tore at his skin. He had set all the players in place, and Nightmare was strong enough to fight Siegfried to a standstill.

Yet now Nightmare's power was growing out of control. Though still not strong enough to decisively defeat Siegfried, Nightmare could easily overwhelm the fragile state of the Soul Embrace and create a more powerful, unified Soul Edge. It would take him mere moments.

Perhaps, Zasalamel thought, as Necrid bounded towards the Azure Knight, his old host body would be better suited to this battle. Zasalamel had no interest in sullying his own hands, so he waited for their paths to cross, and waited to see a new, unexpected enemy emerge to battle Siegfried in Nightmare's stead. Though, of course, if Nightmare were victorious...

He preferred not to think about that. Even if that body was no longer his, it would remind Zasalamel only too well that he had real competition in his plan to release the power of the swords onto himself. Nightmare's power could grow further, and overwhelm those around him. It was already beginning to affect Siegfried's old servant girl, and would've spread to Amy by now had it not been for Talim's efforts.

Yet, Zasalamel was optimistic. Either way, Necrid or Nightmare would only be able to play a hand after everything had gone to Zasalamel's plan. The single, glorious moment to come within a few days had been centuries in the making; the suffering of these simple, transient entities and the inevitable conflict awaiting them were small prices to pay for the fruition of this scheme.

That conflict alone would be the only thing capable of allowing Zasalamel time to complete his ritual and bring about the end he so desperately sought...

---

Greed and the new Lust stepped towards Siegfried's camp in the dead of night, traversing through shadows amongst the tents and passing undetected by Taki or Sophitia, the evening's sentries. Each would be approached in due time, but they had to be careful, or risk waking Ivy or especially Siegfried, the real threat to their plan.

"I'll keep the Japanese girl distracted," Greed offered. "I assume you can handle the Athenian?"

"With ease," the woman who had been Miser purred. Greed moved away from her, and stalked towards Seong Mi-na, allowing Lust to channel her powers alone in the darkness, spreading the shadows towards an unsuspecting Sophitia, as she looked out at the plains and mountains beyond their campsite, lost in thought.

She thought of her home, as always. Her visit to Athens had brought an end to months of worrying about Rothion, but with Patroklos and Pyrrha dragged back into this struggle, she felt as though she had failed them. She had undertaken this journey solely so she could protect her children, and confront the evil forces pursuing Soul Edge. She already bore wounds from her first battle with the evil blade, and she had been determined never to allow such harm to come to her son and daughter – yet they had fallen into Tira's clutches in her absence.

"Ah, so much pain in your past and present alike..."

Sophitia drew her sword, the blade brushing the neck of a red-haired woman in a shawl, a katana and shuriken strapped to her back.

"Who are you?" the Athenian woman demanded.

The red-haired woman smiled. "All that you covet, and all that you wish could be true..." She grasped the blade with her right hand, and instantaneously vanished, the area around Sophitia cast in impenetrable shadows. She moved her sword and shield about, trying to find a target.

"I can detect your uncertainty, your imprecision..." she continued from somewhere in the dark. "Your thoughts are drifting so wildly, and your tension is rising. You're getting sloppy. Vulnerable."

"Show yourself!" Sophitia demanded.

"As you wish," and from that formless darkness appeared not a woman, but the strong build of her husband, so beautifully built and tanned.

"What are you – " she began, but could not finish, as Siegfried stepped to Rothion's side. Each disrobed, revealing their fit forms to her.

"You don't have to make the choice, or be burdened by your indecision," Siegfried told her.

"You can have your passion, and enjoy it without reserve," Rothion added.

"There doesn't have to be anything more to this than your wants and needs," Siegfried continued. "No battle for the Soul Edge, no fight for your children."

Siegfried embraced her, and Sophitia's shield and sword dropped to the ground.

"No mention of the past," Rothion added, his mouth moving along her neck. "Nothing but this moment, and this feeling."

Sophitia had already lost. And she didn't care that she had, with these sweet promises and the strong bodies to back them up.

---

Ivy was still awake after being unceremoniously dismissed from Siegfried's tent. She had resumed her study, and she was in the process of weighing the Valentine against metal fragments of the same size and approximate density, trying to even out the influence of Soul Edge fragments in each individual piece of her blade. She consulted her notes on iron impurities within Soul Edge and to what degree that made her blade heavier.

At least, that was what she was up to until she heard the clanging of metal, and definitely not the ones she was examining. Ivy reformed the Valentine and stepped outside her tent, only to dodge just in time to avoid being hit by Taki as she skidded backwards.

"Greed," Ivy muttered at the sight of their assailant, remembering him only too well. "Back to trick us again?"

"Oh, no, I have a far simpler objective," Greed replied, smiling his toothless smile. "I've come for Soul Embrace at last. No need to force you to fight anyone else, when you've already lost half your force by your own hand."

Taki began to preparing a spirit-based attack, and Ivy moved to take her place to battle Greed. They were both so focused on their adversary that neither noticed Sophitia lying on the ground nearby in an apparently catatonic state, drooling a bit from her mouth, eyes glazed over in evident joy.

Ivy's sword clanged between the two prongs of Void as Greed casually spun the Austere in his free hand.

"You aren't telling the truth," Ivy told him. "You aren't a single-minded entity like Nightmare. You must have a plan."

"Have you no ears?" Greed asked. "_I_ came for Soul Embrace. My associate, however..."

Greed stepped aside as a shadow appeared in the ground before Ivy, and from it emerged a red-haired woman, grinning at her.

"A different tactic for this one," the new adversary noted. Ivy swung out with the Valentine but struck only empty air, as all light around her was suddenly extinguished, replaced by shadows. Ivy whirled to and fro in the dark, searching for a target. "You don't love anyone but yourself, am I correct, Isabella Valentine?"

"Certainly not far off the mark," Ivy agreed, "but I'd prefer that these people stay alive."

"Oh, I'm not here to harm anyone," the woman replied from somewhere in the shapeless void. "I came to alleviate your tension and dismiss your woes."

"Luring us into a false sense of security?" Ivy asked.

"Oh, no. I just think you'd rather die in passion and joy, rather than on the sword of one of your enemies," she answered. "Or perhaps a sword is what you want after all…"

Siegfried stepped forward, fully nude. Ivy attacked him instinctively, and cut into him. He vanished almost as quickly.

"Ah, so you don't like the Azure Knight enough to stay your hand?"

"Not when it's clearly illusion," Ivy spat. "Do you really think me so weak?"

"Yes," she answered simply. "As you'll soon realize."

The Soul Embrace lifted up from the darkened floor, pulsating. The energy of Soul Edge was spreading outwards with baneful light, overcoming the will of Soul Calibur. Instinctively, Ivy reached forward to do something, hand stopping just shy of the blade's hilt.

"We all want something, Isabella Valentine," the woman told her. "Or have you forgotten how much you wanted to do this?"

Ivy felt hands grasp her own and push her forward. She looked over her shoulder and saw...herself, driving her hand forward, smiling her own familiar cruel smile.

"No," Ivy protested, struggling. This facsimile of herself continued to push forward, her hands reaching towards the pulsating weapon.

"Which will you take? Which destiny will you seize?" this apparition asked, speaking clearly with Ivy's own voice.

"I will take neither!" Ivy responded flatly. "This weapon must be purified and destroyed."

"Who are you intending to fool?" the facsimile Ivy demanded. "You want that power. It courses through you. It is a part of you. It is your origin. It is your destiny. You rebelled against your father, but deep down inside of you, you _want_ to return to Soul Edge, the foundation of your being!"

"Lies!" Ivy replied, shaking her head. "This isn't what I want – "

"It's the only thing you want."

Her hands were pressed forward, closer...ever closer...

---

Lust stepped away from Ivy and casually sidestepped as Greed skidded back after receiving one of the nukenin's kicks, and took her partner's place. Taki did not relax her guard, though surprise briefly passed over her face.

"Miser?" she asked.

"No, not anymore," Lust replied. "But it seems we have you to thank for sparing this woman and providing me a vessel."

"You're working for Greed now?" Taki demanded. "What have you done to my comrades?"

"I have allowed them to feel their last joys, each in their own special ways," Lust replied. "Just as I'm about to offer you."

Things went dark. Taki moved to attack, but her foe had vanished, surrounding Taki in shadows.

"You are a lot harder to read, but you do have desires of your own, far beneath the pristine surface," Lust observed. From the darkness emerged several towering demons, wielding claw and blade alike in pursuit of Taki.

She leapt back, drawing her purification arts, from scrolls to sutras, and began the appropriate hand motions and incantations where applicable. However, as the demons drew nearer, all the seals Taki erected vanished before her eyes, ineffective.

"You desire the thrill of combat," Lust observed, immaterial. "You seek that simple release, that rush...the feeling of victory and triumph at the end."

"Lies," Taki replied, avoiding one of her assailants and slashing its back, to little avail.

"Your own heart cannot lie to you," Lust explained. "You've steeled it well, but cracks do appear. You need this combat, this proof of your strength and fortitude. It's the only thing that prevents you from realizing how alone you are."

Taki leapt onto one of the beast's backs and slashed into its dark flesh, but saw no visible change. She may as well have attacked stone with her bare fists.

"Or is it simply that you wish to slip up?" Lust asked. "And let others see you are not invincible?" The demons vanished, and Taki fell to the ground in a heap, as her comrades appeared in a semicircle around her, looking down. "You wish there wasn't so much weight on your shoulders. You wish you could ease your burden and share it with the others. You wish that the others knew that you are vulnerable. Human."

They offered their hands to her. None showed any disdain or disappointment, only the sincere desire to help.

"And perhaps, you'd like to share with them your very human failings," Lust continued. She vanished, and Siegfried took her place, his extending his hand down toward Taki. "Perhaps there is even one of them with whom you would share...everything."

Taki stood on her own, glaring about the darkness.

"In denial, then? So be it," Lust conceded. The demons reappeared in Siegfried's stead. "Then I'll force you to show your hand."

---

Nightmare stopped. Tira was so surprised to see him halt in the middle of a march that she nearly bumped into him, and screeched to a halt only a few inches behind, moving her head to be out of the strands of his red mane.

"Master?" Tira asked.

Nightmare roughly shoved her away, drawing the phantom Soul Edge. As soon as Tira hit the ground she saw why she'd been removed from his way: a beast of a man with red skin, a prominent chestplate and a gray face mask had just tackled Nightmare, and the Azure Knight had blocked the strike with the flat of his sword.

"No soul resides within you." Nightmare stated. "You are of no interest to me."

The beast could not speak in the common tongue. Rather, its communication consisted entirely of hisses and snarls, emotion unreadable behind an inexpressive gray mask. One arm was a three-fingered claw like Nightmare's own grotesque right arm, and beneath the beast's chestplate, imbedded in his very skin sat a shard of Soul Edge. The energy from that shard was mingling with some power coursing through this monstrosity's own body, creating an enormous supply to force the long necrotized flesh to move.

"It appears that you possess something of mine." Nightmare observed. "You have brought something to make me whole again? How kind of you."

Necrid growled and Nightmare threw him off, raising his phantom blade to a parrying position. The red skinned man bounded forward again, and Nightmare sidestepped, driving the blade into the monster's back, forcing him to the ground in one deft move. Nightmare concentrated his power into his fist, and Tira moved further back as the baneful energy coursing through him blasted into Necrid. The red skinned man cried out in pain but quickly righted himself, throwing Nightmare off and sending the Azure Knight to the floor with a sweep of his leg.

Nightmare clamored up and slashed, only for his blade to be caught in Necrid's twisted right arm. The two fighters locked fingers in their free hands, each trying to overpower the other.

"Cease your struggle, fool!" Nightmare instructed, pushing Necrid further back. Necrid and Nightmare locked two pairs of yellow eyes and held that gaze, each finding something familiar in one another's stare. The facsimile of a sword grasped in Necrid's hand had been there before, when it was complete...when it had been strong.

The will of that blade, living on in a suit of armor, was delighted to find such a reliable host again. The power he felt clanging against his own would be added to his own, and he'd be that much closer to restoring himself completely.

Tira looked on, fascinated. Whatever this monster was, its strength was equal to Nightmare's. She might need to intervene.

Would she do the same when Nightmare and Siegfried did battle? Would they be as evenly matched? As vulnerable to a definitive, surprise attack?

High above them, away from their notice, Zasalamel watched, fascinated at the display. While it was undeniable that Necrid possessed only a mere fraction of Zasalamel's power, Nightmare's ability to hold his own was impressive.

Magnificent as it was to behold, Zasalamel couldn't help but feel concerned about the outcome...about what would happen when either one emerged triumphant.

And what role would the servant girl play?

He was patient. He didn't care what became of his old body, as it was nothing but a hollow construct.

Just like Nightmare.

Regardless of the victory, he would be first to know who had triumphed, and he would respond accordingly.

---

Siegfried had slept well. The afterglow of passion offered him some sanctuary from his memories and shame, and had eased him into slumber – but that slumber was interrupted by the sounds of combat. Knowing better than to emerge from his tent unshielded, he quickly affixed some of his armor before emerging from his tent, Zweihänder in hand. He saw Sophitia first, prone on the ground, eyes wide, mouth open with a single bead of drool running down her chin. Her weapons were discarded, her clothing loosened. Ivy and Taki were not far away – the former was on her knees, reaching towards something, her eyes glazed over, while the latter was moving rapidly, slashing at the air around her.

It was evident that the women were somehow bewitched, but Siegfried could not determine who to help first, or how. He heard a sound behind him, as though something had dropped down. He drew the Requiem at once, but stopped when he saw whom it was that had landed behind him.

It was a girl, about 17 years old. Her hair was blue, her eyes purple, and her skin partially covered by green clothes and a few feathers. A large circular blade was strapped to her back.

She couldn't be responsible for the state of his comrades. She would have just killed them. Another force was at work here. Whatever it was, Siegfried didn't know how he was going to handle both saving his comrades and dealing with Tira as well.

"Oh, Master!" she cried out suddenly, her expression dreamy. "I've been waiting for this day! The day when I can finally introduce myself to you!"

He remembered those words.

"As of this moment..." She kneeled down. "...I open the most sacred depths of my heart and accept your will into myself, Master!"

He recalled his confusion. He'd been so unsure how to react, what to think. He had been overcome by this girl who had used nothing more than her words to disarm him.

To seduce him...

"Master, isn't it obvious?" the girl asked. "I am giving myself to you!"

From that moment forward, she had him wound around her finger. Though she claimed to be the willing slave, it was he, Siegfried, who had then been ensnared by her.

He'd taken her to bed, and he'd loved her, and no matter what deeds she'd done before, he didn't care. All that mattered to him was having a source of warmth and comfort for the first time since becoming the Azure Night.

Footsteps behind him. Siegfried turned around and saw Ivy, standing in a beautiful gown.

"Please, come in," she greeted, smiling at him. Though more skin was exposed in her usual battle gear, Ivy's dress exposed a great deal of her ample chest. It was hard to tear his eyes away from her, even when the real Ivy...or what he assumed was the real Ivy...was on the ground only a few yards away.

That dress. She'd willingly torn it asunder just to take him by surprise, all in pursuit of stopping the evil she presumed to be Nightmare. She had repented, even if she retained some of her cruelty.

Sophitia stepped forward, dressed in a loose translucent toga and little else. She leveled her Omega Sword at him, eyes fierce. She had been defending her temple, the sacred edifice of her god Hephaestus...and even in combat, he'd been unable to not admire her.

Cassandra appeared next. And Setsuka. And Taki. And Seong Mi-na.

All their words. All their bodies. All around him.

"Can't choose just one?" Greed asked, leaning on Siegfried's shoulder. "I know the feeling."

Siegfried swung with the Requiem, and Greed was willingly dismembered, casually reattaching his limbs to his joints and his midsection back to his waist. Siegfried prepared to slash again, but stopped as the women drew closer.

They weren't real, yet the hands caressing his neck and face felt real enough. They felt warm. Familiar.

"This is what you want most, Schtauffen," Greed pointed out. "And while I generally hate to lose more than I gain, I can offer you a simple trade."

Siegfried glared at him, even as his resistance slipped away.

"Abandon your journey," Greed instructed. "Forgo everything you have gained, what little you have to show for your efforts. Let the Soul Embrace go, into my hand. I have no wish to unleash it, only to possess it. To add it to my collection."

_This is illusion. Lies. He's not human. He can't be trusted._

"My associate Lust will give you your release," Greed assured. "She will give you all that you ever wanted. Your father will live again. Your lovers will exist all for you, only for you. You will finally know peace."

Soul Edge had promised to revive his father, but it had been an immaterial, flimsy illusion. It had been a construct of his own twisted, convergent mind. He had rejected the illusion, placing his blade through the false Sir Frederick, and realized how mad he had become.

But then again, no illusion had ever touched him like this...

"Just give me the Soul Embrace," Greed asked. "I'll keep it from Zasalamel and Nightmare and have it all to myself. You won't have to worry about anything ever again."

_Just tell him no. Show him the same face you did last time. Make him retreat and play his game elsewhere._

_...Or just let these women covet you forever..._

Greed opened his mouth to speak further, but no words escaped him. The thin blade protruding from his mouth and the gargling of blood impeded him somewhat.

The blade withdrew and cut him in two again. Greed was unharmed and already healing, but as he fell, Siegfried saw Amy standing behind him, her rapier – Albion – in hand.

Greed turned to face her. "This one is stubborn as well, I see."

Amy too was subjected to darkness. Siegfried and Greed and the women vanished, as Amy beheld only her papa Raphael, reaching out to her.

She cut him aside without a second's hesitation, and appeared once more in Siegfried's fantasy. Greed was stunned, at last losing his calm exterior.

A red headed woman fell back, a deep gash in her chest. She was piecing herself back together, but not as quickly as Greed. The women around Siegfried seemed to flicker, as though their forms were fading in and out.

Their touch, their warmth vanished for just a single moment, and Siegfried's sense returned to him. He slashed at the women around him, cutting the illusions apart. The red haired woman cried out, and as Greed turned his attention to her, both kunai were knocked from his hands by Amy.

Lust groaned, falling to the ground, bleeding where Siegfried had slashed her apparitions. "Greed," she muttered. "I can't maintain – "

"We have them," Greed told her, moving to her side and away from Amy. "We're mere moments from drawing out the energy needed."

"Greed," Lust said again. "There's nothing for me to draw on..."

"What?" Greed demanded. Again his calm exterior vanished as he turned his attention to the other three women.

---

Taki stopped. She set down her two blades and waited.

"No more struggle?" a demon demanded.

"I cannot push myself any further," Taki responded simply. "I cannot do more than my best. And I know my comrades will carry on."

The beast attacked. Its claw passed right through her.

---

Sophitia moved away from Rothion and Siegfried, stating frankly: "No."

"Sophitia?" Rothion asked.

"No, I can't do this," she said. "I can't have you both. I can't force both of you to love me."

"Sophitia, love can be shared," Siegfried told her. "It doesn't have to be monogamous."

"Yes, it does!" Sophitia snapped back. "I...have to think of my children. I do not want to give them a poor example to follow. Mine might be the only one they'll ever know."

---

Ivy held the Soul Edge of her own free will. Its power coursed within her, energizing her. Its voice was not harsh, but simple and direct...comforting.

She held the very blade she'd been created to wield. With a single strike she could unmake any foe.

And yet...she was not alone in her own mind. A second soul had joined with hers.

She tossed the Soul Edge aside like the unnecessary baggage it was, and returned to her peaceful isolation.

---

All three emerged. Each stood up, and moved to stand beside Siegfried or Ivy, encircling Greed and Lust.

Lust was writhing, her illusions shattered. Her eyes were bleeding, her hair drenched in sweat. Her mouth and nostrils and ears were glowing dark blue, wisps of energy escaping from her.

Greed snarled and then gave a deep cry of frustration as he watched Lust's essence dissipate. It returned to its original form...

Immaterial. Conceptual. Nothing but an idea. A parasitic existence, barely surviving with so little sustenance.

His hands were shaking again. His host was resisting his control.

Siegfried lifted Greed by his vest and held him at eye level. His comrades stood behind Siegfried, weapons leveled. Siegfried did not look pleased, but he wasn't angry. He wouldn't allow Greed the emotions that he coveted. That fueled him.

"Why couldn't you give in?" Greed asked. "Why couldn't you just let go?"

"I allowed myself to be corrupted," Siegfried replied. "And I still am to this day. You don't get to play a part in it anymore."

Greed smirked. "Ever the fool, Schtauffen. Can you really defeat your true nature? Can you stand against Soul Edge with so many sins still within you?"

"I don't know if I can," Siegfried admitted. "But _we_ can." Each of his allies nodded. "And nothing...not even immortals, will stop us."

"Oh, not immortal," Greed replied. "Just...immaterial." Wisps of energy floated out of Greed's mouth as he smiled his toothless smile. "My part in this is over, but when you fail...I will return. When you acknowledge what you are, I will be there to grant you all that you wish for."

"I suppose I shouldn't fail, then," Siegfried responded, dropping Greed. "But it's too late for you to avoid it."

"A poor farce..." Greed observed. He began to laugh, maniacally, before falling silent and slumping in Siegfried's grasp. Siegfried released Greed and he fell to the ground, landing in an unmoving heap as his energy drifted away and dissipated.

Siegfried turned to the red haired girl who'd so easily pierced the illusion. "Thank you, Amy."

She nodded and turned her attention to the horizon, where an orange light signaled the rising sun in the East.

A new dawn – and a very important day.

---

Long after the camp had been taken down and Siegfried and comrades moved on, the man that had once been Greed and the woman known as Miser awoke. They instantly began to battle, with Miser seeking vengeance, and the old man after the contents of her wallet.

Both were disposed of by a Japanese swordsman, passing by on his own journey, seeking an unstoppable sword, albeit unaware it had just passed by in another direction.

---

When midday rolled around, Nightmare let loose a satisfied breath and drove the phantom blade once more into Necrid's back. One final time, the beast writhed before breathing his last and lying still.

"This place shall be your grave," Nightmare observed, as power flowed into him. "You deserve nothing less than destruction."

Necrid could not reply. The energy he'd drawn from Soul Edge was all that allowed him to live. Nightmare removed his blade and lifted the Soul Edge fragment and grafted it into his sword.

He was stronger. Reenergized.

This beast had been very useful, and he'd be only too happy to show Siegfried how much stronger he'd become. There was no doubt he was ready now.

"Come," Nightmare instructed simply. Tira followed him as Nightmare charged ahead, his form growing stronger and moving his heavy armor with ease.

Zasalamel watched from high above, a chill running down his spine for the first time in that particular lifetime.

It had been a likely outcome. Why was it still so surprising?

It didn't matter. Siegfried and Nightmare would destroy each other and he'd pick up the pieces at the end.


	58. Forsaken Sanctuary

_Our journey is almost over._

That statement was familiar to them. The thought had crossed their minds at several points throughout their adventure. When Hephaestus raised his hammer to destroy the Soul Embrace, when Siegfried held the Embrace over the ocean, when Talim prepared to perform the purification spell on the Embrace, they had all been filled with a sense of finality, a feeling of impending conclusion. And, each time, they had been disappointed with failure; even a god himself could not shatter the Embrace, it would be far too risky to abandon it anywhere, and Zasalamel was determined not to allow the Embrace to be purified until his unknown goal was fulfilled.

And so it was that, although Siegfried and the rest of his companions were heading toward the Lost Cathedral, where they had been told they would be able to purify the Embrace, hope did not stir in any of their hearts. They had been disappointed too often, let down too many times, foiled too frequently to harbor such a thing as hope anymore. They were trying something new, and they wished for it to bring an end to their voyage, but none of them were naïve enough to be optimistic about the outcome. They felt sure that they would encounter danger, confront adversaries, risk their lives; it had been the standard for their travels thus far, and there was no reason for them to believe that their latest incursion would be without peril.

They usually always avoided sea travel; the hazards of the ocean were too numerous for them to take the risk, even to reach a destination sooner. Their encounter with Cervantes at sea had left some of them feeling almost irrationally paranoid about sailing, especially Ivy. The only reason they now sat aboard a vessel was because there was no other way to reach their destination; and because they were willing to face the risks if they could truly conclude their journey at the Lost Cathedral.

The only member of the group exempt from the gloominess and negativity that encapsulated their little ship was Amy, who had never seen the sea before and had never ridden a boat before. The experience seemed to bring actual excitement to her normally demure character, and decorated her face with an amused expression to replace the emotionless one she usually wore. The others envied her childlike naïveté, which was the only distraction available to them. They had long exhausted all avenues of discussion, and now that the energetic and entertaining members of their group were absent, their travels had become exceptionally silent and dull. None of them were on this quest for amusement, however. Siegfried wanted to destroy Soul Edge because he knew how much destruction it was capable of and how much suffering it brought upon its host; Ivy wanted to destroy Soul Edge because she was aware that it could curse individuals to walk in its shadow for the entirety of their lives; Taki wanted to destroy Soul Edge because she felt ethically responsible for any damage caused by a force that she had the power to stop. Amy's reasons were far simpler, given her age and straightforward attitude. The death of Raphael had destroyed her life and her happiness, and now she wanted revenge on the woman who had wrought this upon her. She was certain that she would encounter Tira if she traveled along with these confusing adults, and that was why she had stubbornly refused to leave them.

After spending several days at sea with nothing to see in any direction but the sky and the ocean, the island on the horizon stuck out as much as the sun would during nighttime. The warriors had spent their time as fruitfully as they could, exercising, practicing, and sparring as well as they could on the small boat, but as soon as that island came into view, none of them could find anything better to do than to stare at it and watch as it became bigger and bigger until they could behold the construct built upon it.

It was as magnificent as they had been led to believe – no, tenfold its reputation. The description of its architecture fell short of its actual glory; not only did it possess every form of structural design from Europe, but from many eastern lands as well. The design of the Cathedral almost seemed to reflect Siegfried's journey across half the world – from the stone palisades, enceinte walls, and cylindrical towers of Germany, to the gothic sculptures, stained glass, and frescos of the British Kingdom, to the limestone and marble columns of Greece, there did not seem to be a single country left unrepresented by this otherworldly structure. Upon the sight of it, the group was filled with a sharp sense of regret that such a construct was unknown to the rest of the world, followed by the slow realization that it would be unwise to expose the Cathedral to the general population, since its beauty would only prompt the nations it represented to fight over ownership of it. One of the most incredible creations that man had ever forged was fated to live in myth alone, to save it and others from harm.

There was a port on the island, decorated with statues of angels, pegasi, and gods from all religious to greet visitors. Siegfried, the most nautically skilled of the five, maneuvered their ship into the port, feeling a bit embarrassed to be steering such a modest boat into a port that had been originally intended for the vessels of kings. They departed from the boat and stepped onto the consecrated port, instantly being struck with the feeling that they now tread upon sacred ground. Everything around them felt holy and sacred, right down to the air they breathed. Their desire to bask in the sanctity of this uncanny Cathedral was rivaled only by their desire to conclude their journey, and so they spent little time tarrying before moving forward – except for Sophitia, who took the time to give a quick prayer to a nearby statue of Hephaestus.

The path to the Cathedral was literally paved with gold, making it quite easy to find their way inside the structure. The interior of the building was even more magnificent than the exterior, and awe-inspiring sculptures and designs robbed the travelers of their breath several times before something else grabbed their attention.

"...Siegfried, I sense something up ahead..." Taki said. "Something evil."

"Evil...?" Siegfried echoed. It was difficult to imagine anything foul existing in the midst of so much beauty, but it was also predictable that they would encounter some form of opposition, as they always did. "I sense nothing."

"Indeed, this Cathedral was built at the very center of the world's spiritual energy." Taki said, confirming the words of Olcadan. "As the owl-headed man said, lines of spiritual energy course throughout the world much like the flow of water or wind, and we are at the nexus of those lines. There could not possibly be a more sacred place to be found in the world – the purity and sacredness of this place should blot out any evil that attempts to enter it."

"But, the Embrace..." Siegfried unbound the tassel that held his satchel shut, and drew the Soul Embrace out of it. It was as still and unmoving as ever. "It has shown a reaction to heavily concentrated evil energy in the past. Why does it not stir now, even when it has reached the most holy location in the world?"

"The evil energy that I sense up ahead...I believe that it may be countering the holy energy of the Cathedral, keeping the Embrace safe." Taki said.

"What?" Siegfried gasped. "What could possibly be wicked enough to – "

The answer reached each of their minds at once, and for one moment, each one of their hearts stopped beating before it resumed with a quickened pace.

"Not him...not here...not now!" Siegfried hissed with his teeth clenched shut. "He was tracking us, which meant that he knew which direction we were moving in. Simply by knowing our heading, he could stay one step ahead of us...and then arrive here before us..."

"If it truly is...him..." Ivy began, "The environment could not possibly be more to our advantage. Four against one, a demonic being at the center of the world's spiritual energy...he is at a severe disadvantage."

"Five, not four." Sophitia corrected. "We have Amy."

"And I doubt he will be alone." Taki said. "He has...a servant."

Siegfried winced at the reminder of Tira's new position as slave to Nightmare.

"The girl shouldn't fight Nightmare." Ivy said. "She's not strong enough."

"I'm not interested in fighting Nightmare." Amy said, the usually soft-spoken girl sounding more defiant and bold than ever before. "If she is here, leave her to me."

All eyes went to Siegfried. Although he had done much to gain their trust over their journey, they doubted how he would act in the face of his former lover.

Siegfried had been bottling his feelings for Tira for a long time, telling himself that far more important matters required his attention – but his emotions welled up every time he was reminded of the girl, and he desperately ached for the days when he had spent hours receiving constant affection, appreciation, and love from the girl. He decided to lie to his comrades to soothe their concerns, even if most of them would be able to tell that he was lying.

"...Tira...is a broken person. She is a tragedy. It is not her fault; her caretakers raised her in a twisted and crooked way, so as to develop her into a very specific type of person. She will forever have the mind of a child, and will never be able to live an ordinary life, or a happy life. Because she cannot live in harmony with people, she is a dangerous person, and I should not have let myself be seduced by her. It was foolish of me to develop feelings for her. I know that it is pointless to pine for her any longer; becoming entangled with her again would be a bad choice." Siegfried's voice was beginning to crack, so he decided to cut his speech short. "If she stands in our way, we will have to defeat her. If we must kill her...it would save her a life of suffering."

"Siegfried..." Sophitia said, sad to see her friend so distraught. Ivy and Taki, normally disinterested in other people's lives, each felt a tinge of empathy for Siegfried's plight. Amy, however, smiled when she heard that she would encounter no opposition from Siegfried in her quest to slay Tira.

"Let us proceed...we must dispose of this evil force before we attempt to purify the Soul Embrace." Siegfried said, hoisting the Requiem as he prepared for the impending battle.

"He is here."

As an entity composed of nothing but a desire to consume souls, Nightmare was understandably not very talkative. A being made of pure willpower is only interested in its desires, not in making discussion; but there were times when Nightmare's satisfaction would force words from its helmet. "At long last, the time has come..." He began. "I will be reunited with my original vessel, and regain my former host body. I will no longer be compelled to preserve this form, and the power I have lost will be returned to me..." These things which Nightmare spoke of would require him to defeat Siegfried in combat. However, as he spoke, he did not acknowledge this fact; an indication of his confidence that Siegfried would pose no threat.

"Woman!" Rumbled Nightmare's helmet, causing Tira to wince. She sat on the ground a few feet from her master, her feet pressed together, her elbows on her knees.

"Y-yes, Master?"

"I am certain that I will defeat Schtauffen, but I would lose nothing by increasing my chances of victory."

"How can I help, Master?"

"Give yourself to me – all of you, totally and completely, with nothing left out, every last part of you."

"M-Master?!" Tira gasped, blushing, shocked to hear such a request coming from a being that had never demonstrated a libido. "A-are you asking me for my body…?"

"Incorrect. I am asking for your soul."

Tira's face went from deep red to stark white. Nightmare was asking her to make the ultimate sacrifice for him – to give him her life. She had already pledged her life to him, but she had spent her entire life avoiding death.

"Dying is the most you can do for me. You are worthless. You failed to deliver me the head of Schauffen, what he calls the 'Soul Embrace', or any suitable host body at all. You have only aided me in collecting souls and shards that I would have collected myself, without sacrificing time or energy. Your value is absolutely nothing."

Tira's heart sank. She felt as though her very soul had been pierced by the sharpest of blades. No words had ever hurt her more than Nightmare's words wounded her now.

"Give me your soul and at least you will have served me some purpose." Nightmare concluded.

"N-no – w-wait!" Tira stammered. "Let me say something!"

"Speak. I hunger. But know that I have no appetite for petty excuses." Nightmare stated flatly.

"...I…right now, I can be more useful than ever before. Siegfried...he and I were in an intimate relationship. He harbors deep feelings for me. I can distract him. I can make his emotions control his actions. I can make it easy for you to strike him. I can disarm him, and even disrobe him!"

"Hmph." Nightmare said gruffly. "I have never lent any credence to petty human emotions…but if you claim that your connection to Siegfried can grant me such powerful advantages, then I will allow you to persist."

"Thank you, O wise Master! You will not regret this decision!" Tira rose from the ground and slung her ringblade over her shoulder. "I will depart now, to beguile and deceive Siegfried. He will be putty. Then, I will lead him here, you will strike, and claim easy victory!"

"Know that if you fail me yet again, I will not hesitate to claim your soul." Nightmare said bluntly. "Go now, and bewitch Siegfried."

Tira bowed deeply, and then scurried to a column which she climbed with ease. She hopped across the elaborate rafters of the highly decorated hallways, leaving Nightmare alone at the center of the Lost Cathedral.

The only sounds that were audible in the long and heavily decorated hallways of the Lost Cathedral were the footsteps of those traveling through it, and this is why every member of the group could tell when one of them had stopped walking.

As each member of the group turned around to see who had halted, their eyes all fell upon the young redheaded waif. Her posture was rigidly straight, her head was tilted up, and her eyes were opened as wide as possible, as though she was attempting to seize something in the air around her with her senses alone. She was the exact opposite of her usual disinterested self, which was unsettling to the others; they were unaccustomed to seeing her display anything other than the purest apathy. She turned sharply to one side, gazing down a hallway leading away from the evil energy, and then abruptly bolted in that direction with more fervor and passion than any of the other four would have ever expected of her.

"Amy!" Sophitia called, reaching a hand out to her in a vain attempt to catch her attention.

"Let her go." Taki said. "She cannot assist us, and to bring her with us would only endanger her. She never had any interest in our journey. She has a journey of her own."

"She's no better off fighting Nightmare than trying to kill Tira." Sophitia said. "She would not be able to handle either of them."

"Oh, I'm not so sure." Ivy said. "That girl developed her combat ability faster than anyone I've ever seen, and her fighting style counters what I remember of Tira's technique. She also nearly defeated the traitor back at Athens. I think she has a shot."

"And if she does not?" Sophitia countered.

"She won't rest until either she or Tira is dead. If she cannot defeat Tira, her fate is already decided; she will die in combat. If she can defeat Tira, then that is one less threat we have to worry about."

"How can you have so little concern for her?" Sophitia demanded. "How can you let someone so young throw her life away like that?"

Ivy continued walking, and did not bother to face Sophitia as she replied. "It is true that I am not concerned for her safety, Mrs. Alexandra. I'm not concerned because I don't think she will die today."

Ivy's faith in the girl was uncharacteristic for one who had rarely demonstrated the slightest amount of camaraderie, but she had spent more time with the girl than anyone else. If Ivy trusted Amy to survive a confrontation with Tira, then the girl was not to be taken as lightly as she had been.

The women diverted their eyes from Siegfried, knowing that they were discussing the potential death of his former lover. He kept as silent as always, his thoughts and emotions known only to himself, exactly as he wished them to be.

It was easy for the group to locate Nightmare; his presence perturbed the air, stirred the energy of the region. His evil aura was muffled by the holy energy around him, but as the group drew closer, they could sense him more clearly. Eventually, his dark aura nearly eclipsed the holy energy around him. It was clear that the sacred nature of the Cathedral would not impede him at all. In fact, when they entered the room that contained him, they found that the opposite was true.

Nightmare was kneeling on the ground in the center of the highly decorated room, his back arched. If energy were actually to be visible, the group would have beheld a funnel of spiritual energy diving down toward him from above. Nightmare was drawing holy energy into himself, where he corrupted it and then added it to his own power, much in the same way that Talim had drawn evil energy into herself and purified it within her. He was actually growing in power just by being there, amidst energy that was opposite to his own.

When Nightmare felt the eyes of his adversaries upon him. He corrected his posture, shifted to one knee, and then arrived in a standing position. He gazed at Siegfried, the Soul Embrace strapped to his back, then at each of his companions in turn. The helmet that represented his head turned slowly from one side to another as he surveyed the group before him. Then, abruptly and suddenly, he tossed back his armored head, and began to screech loudly. It was a painful sound to listen to, and at first the group perceived it as some sort of a reverberation attack – but as the noise went on, they slowly began to realize what Nightmare was doing – he was laughing.

It was an unnatural sound, difficult to listen to, most likely because Nightmare was unaccustomed to laughter.

"You fools – you have undone yourselves!" He crowed. "For how long now have you toiled? How many countries have you traveled, in your quest to destroy the Soul Edge? It has all been a waste! You have ruined your own efforts!"

"What are you talking about, you freak?" Ivy spat. "And stop your cackling! I'm not going to be laughed at by something as wretched as you!"

Nightmare laughed once more before ceasing. "Enough." He said simply. Then, he tucked his arms together, and hunched over.

The group began to feel a rapidly pulsing vibration, an ominous hum filled their ears, and the air before Nightmare became distorted, as the space above a flame is.

The group did not waste a moment before reacting. They did not know exactly what Nightmare was preparing to do, but could tell that he was gathering energy for an attack. Taki made the first move – with a quick chant, a series of hand gestures, and a flick of her wrist to toss a talisman at Nightmare, she unleashed the energy that she had been storing up ever since they set foot on the island, and fired all of her strongest spells directly at Nightmare. The talisman was incinerated the moment it entered Nightmare's vicinity, and although her flurry of spiritual energy struck Nightmare hard, the only effect it had on him was to make him skid backwards across the ground, although he kept his stance throughout the assault. Ivy was the next to strike, extending her snake sword to its maximum reach and then lashing it at Nightmare. She struck him rapidly, her sword a blur, moving faster than the eye could see, but he endured each blow with no sign of pain, continuing to adopt his defensive, coiled stance. Sophitia chose not to attack, but to defend by dropping to the ground and raising her shield. She knew that Siegfried would be the best candidate for a physical attack, which is exactly what he proceeded to do. The German man charged at Nightmare with Zweihänder held high, expertly drawn back to deliver a blow with as much of Siegfried's force behind it as possible, aimed so as to deal damage to Nightmare's most vulnerable spot. But Siegfried was to have as much luck in damaging his adversary as the others.

The moment he swung his sword forward to attack Nightmare, Nightmare unfurled himself, arching his back sharply and spreading out his arms wide. Just as Siegfried's sword was about to cleave into him, a blast of energy radiated from Nightmare. This blast was so thick with evil energy, so heavy with wickedness, so dense with darkness that the energy itself was visible. It spread outward in every direction, forming an expanding black sphere with Nightmare at its center. It spread quickly, engulfing the room in the blink of an eye.

The blast knocked Siegfried away, sending him tumbling across the ground and into a wall. Upon seeing that Taki and Ivy's attacks had done nothing, the women had all adopted a defensive stance that allowed them to absorb the blast – but even with their feet planted firmly on the ground, each of them slid backwards quite a distance, stopping only when they hit a wall.

Siegfried could not muster the energy to rise while this blast of energy was still bearing down on him. It seemed to amplify gravity, making it impossible to push off the ground. It was only when the attack finally subsided that Siegfried was able to look up and survey the scene. His first concern was the Embrace, which he could no longer feel on his back. He spotted it near the center of the room, in front of Nightmare, who stood stoically before it. It was glowing with a dark aura, the meat of Soul Edge pulsating and quivering, the eyeball at its center opening drowsily. The tentacle-like tendrils that grew from the flesh of the weapon began to pull at Soul Calibur, attempting to force it out like the unwelcome visitor it was. With a sickening, squishy noise, Soul Edge succeeded in extricating Soul Calibur from its center and forcing the blade aside.

The two swords were separate once more.

_Where are they?_

Tira closed her eyes and attempted to concentrate. The swirling mass of dark energy around her Master, coupled with the lines of spiritual energy pervading throughout the Cathedral made it difficult to pinpoint the location of Siegfried and his comrades. One moment she thought she sensed them, and the next moment, their auras seemed to be displaced by the energy coursing throughout the area.

She picked up a faint trace of something that reminded her of her Master. It was north of her – but there was something else approaching from the south.

Tira cocked her head in curiosity, wondering who else could possibly have arrived at this Cathedral, before she realized that one of Siegfried's comrades had been dispatched to take her out.

She clicked her tongue in frustration. She, whom had spent so many years as an assassin, was now targeted for elimination. She felt hurt that her former lover would issue such a command, but could not blame him for taking such a measure, especially so close to his goal.

Tira no longer wished to serve Nightmare. He was absolutely nothing like she had first imagined. He attributed no value to her, regarded her as a mere tool, and saw more use in her death than her life. Tira thought that carrying out another person's will would fill the hole in her life, but she had been mistaken. It wasn't a state of slavery or servitude that she wanted; she just didn't want to make decisions for herself. That didn't mean that she wanted to be given orders – she simply wanted guidance. Serving Siegfried had given her so much pleasure that she never realized it wasn't what she truly needed in her life, not until Nightmare had shown her what a truly abusive master was like.

Tira desperately wanted to be reunited with him, to reconcile with him, to rejoin him. She also wanted to see that smug suit of armor destroyed. She knew exactly what she needed to do; she needed to explain herself to the person that was headed for her. It would be difficult if she were to face Ivy or Taki, since neither had ever regarded her with respect, and both were stubborn and distrusting. She would also have a very short amount of time to discuss the matter before her current Master confronted her former one. She dropped down from her perch among the rafters, and waited silently in the center of the chamber.

The moment Tira saw Amy come dashing out from behind a corner, she knew that diplomacy was not an option. The girl was upon her in an instant, moving with swiftness only possible by the young or the determined – and Amy embodied both. Tira back-flipped away to avoid the rapier that darted for her neck, then drew her ringblade to block the next few slashes that came at her.

"Wait – I'm not your enemy anymore!" Tira said.

"Are you not the one who murdered Papa? Then you are my enemy eternally." Amy said simply, without pausing for even a moment.

"I am sorry!" Tira replied, wincing as the girl's rapier drew small cuts in her skin. She tried to leap as far away as possible to present her defense. "I killed your Papa to appease my new Master. I regret doing so, because now I reject that Master! Please forgive me!"

Amy's rapier was upon her before the last word had left her mouth. "Your words change nothing." She said with terrifying calmness as she attacked without mercy. "He is dead, and I will never see him again, all because of you."

"It's not all my fault, Nightmare ordered me to!" Tira argued.

"I DON'T CARE!" Amy said, her voice cracking as she spoke at an octave she had clearly never reached before. "I WILL KILL YOU!"

Tira saw that her words would not reach this girl. She turned her concentration to deflecting the girl's attacks. She was a berserker, discarding many of the important principles of combat simply to lash out in violence. Tira saw tears welling up in the girl's eyes – she had harmed the girl deeply, possibly deeper than Siegfried or Nightmare had ever harmed her. She felt a profound sense of guilt, but would not allow the girl to take her revenge.

Tira ran toward a statue, climbed it as swiftly as possible with Amy's rapier slashing just inches away from her, and then leapt up to the rafters of the hallway. Amy leapt up, slashing her rapier desperately, but could not reach her. She attempted to climb a statue to reach Tira, but could not. She finally gave up in her attempts to reach Tira, and simply paced beneath Tira's perch like a lioness waiting for its prey to come down from a tree.

"You say that my words change nothing." Tira said. "But killing me won't bring Raphael back, either. Taking revenge also changes nothing."

"Shut up." Amy growled in a deep, feral voice that no one would have ever expected to dwell within her.

"This is petty compared to what is going on elsewhere in this Cathedral." Tira said. "If Soul Edge falls into Nightmare's hands, he'll become nothing less than a god, and then he'll kill everyone in the world."

"Shut. Up." Amy repeated.

"Are you even listening?! Siegfried and the other people you've been traveling with could all die! We can't waste our time here fighting like this. There are more important things at stake!"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Amy screamed, leaping up and swishing her rapier through the air.

Tira sighed with exasperation, and slashed her ringblade violently in a downward arc. Amy's sword was smacked from her hands, and sent clattering across the marble floor. Amy dove for it, but Tira dove as well. She snatched up the rapier before the young girl could grab it.

"I'm sorry." Tira said. "I know I've hurt you. But right now – HEY!"

Amy turned around and bolted away from Tira as fast as her legs could take her.

Tira's palm met her face in frustration. "There will be no reasoning with her...What am I going to do about this?"

Ivy's snake sword lashed out immediately to grasp the hilt of Soul Calibur and then whip it back toward them. Nightmare did not budge an inch, and merely watched as the woman used her chain of blades to pull the holy sword from his feet.

When Ivy grasped the hilt of Soul Calibur, a hissing sound was heard, and steam began to rise from her hands. She let out a sharp cry, and dropped the sword immediately. "Wh-what?!"

"It rejects you." Nightmare stated flatly.

"Of course..." Ivy muttered. "My parentage..." The blood that flowed through her veins was corrupted, tainted by Cervantes, her father. Although he was now dead, he had been a host of the evil sword when Ivy was conceived. She would not be able to wield the sword because of this alone, regardless of her own alignments.

Sophitia was closest to the holy sword now, and reached for it herself. When her fingers found its hilt, they drew back instantly as she yelped in pain. "Me too?!" She gasped. "But why?! Don't tell me those shards from so many years ago..."

"It's not that..." Nightmare said, satisfaction evident in his voice.

Taki knelt down and gingerly touched the blade with her fingertips, recoiling instantly. She stared at the blade for a moment, puzzled, before acting. "Siegfried." She said simply, kicking the blade across the marble floor toward her fallen companion.

Siegfried rose to one knee, then reached down to pick up the blade. He wrapped a hand firmly around it, and rose to his feet...

...before realizing that here was an intense burning sensation in his hand.

He attempted to hold onto the sword, but then dropped it immediately, and grasped his hand in pain – even through his glove, it had burned his skin. "Why?" He demanded. "WHY?"

All eyes were on the holy sword, until they were distracted by the sound of Nightmare's disturbing, grotesque laugher.

"Fools...undone yourselves...wasted your own efforts...Ha ha ha..."

"What are you laughing at, you monster?!" Ivy demanded. "What do you mean we've undone ourselves?!"

"It's all so pathetic!" Nightmare crowed. "You had no idea that you were contaminating one another!"

"Contaminating?" Siegfried echoed. "What do you mean? How are we 'contaminated'?"

Nightmare leveled an arm at Siegfried, pointing a razor-tipped finger at him. "The pet who abandoned you told me about your habits...how you entangle your body with others. The one named Isabella Valentine...she is your undoing."

"What…?" Siegfried turned to look at Ivy, who seemed just as confused as him.

"When you became one with Isabella Valentine, she corrupted your body with the same curse that stains her own body. You have been soiling your companions, tainting them with Isabella's curse! None of you are fit to wield Soul Calibur now! The blade rejects every one of you for being polluted with Soul Edge's influence!"

As Siegfried and his three companions listened to Nightmare's clarification, their spirits sunk lower and lower. They were consumed with embarrassment and shame – none of them would ever have expected physical intimacy to transmit the influence of the evil sword and tarnish their souls irreversibly. As the realization dawned on them, Ivy and Sophitia slowly turned to face Taki, who drew her faceguard up to cover her face and hide her blush.

"Humans!" Nightmare said in-between laughs. "Always foiling themselves with their own petty emotions and physical desires! Such inferior, worthless creatures..." He turned his gaze down to the evil monstrosity at his feet.

Ivy's snake sword lashed out to wrap around Soul Edge and yank it away from him, but the moment she whipped out her sword, Nightmare's armor-clad foot stomped down on it just in time to prevent her from pulling it away. The vein-like tentacles growing out of the evil blade pried Ivy's whip off of it, and Nightmare removed his foot from the sword. He held out a gauntleted hand above Soul Edge, which then gravitated upward toward him. He clasped his hand around the hilt, and instantly a wave of dark energy washed over Siegfried and the rest. His aura was magnified tenfold, inspiring a feeling of deep dread and desperation upon his onlookers.

"Reunited!" Nightmare bellowed with satisfaction. "And what is more, I no longer have need for a host body. Although I had considered this armor to be a temporary substitute for a host body, this form is a perfectly acceptable vessel. The dark-skinned man who granted me the ability to move of my own will has my gratitude."

"...So Zasalamel was the one who brought him back..." Siegfried muttered. It was gratifying to finally understand why Nightmare had returned in the first place, but the group had far greater concerns at the moment. Soul Edge was free, and able to wield itself – the worst possible scenario had occurred. Each person in the room was now a few steps away from death...no, something worse than death – an eternity of suffering inside of Soul Edge's abyss.

The four of them attempted to call upon the courage that had allowed them to face such powerful enemies in the past, but not a single one among them could muster it. They were facing the enemy they had been dreading all along, wielding the very weapon they had been campaigning to destroy for the past several years of their lives. They had presumed that Soul Calibur would be enough to counter him, but now the sword was useless to them, and in danger of being consumed at any moment, as well. Their only option, it seemed, was to procure the blade and flee from Nightmare – but they could not even touch the blade.

With each second that ticked past, the group lost more hope. They each wracked their minds for a solution – was there anything at all that could save them now?

_Tmp tmp tmp tmp tmp_

Footsteps.

"The slave returns?" Nightmare pondered. "That worthless wretch will be the first sacrifice for my new blade."

A red-headed girl wearing an ornate dress barged into the room. She carried no weapon with her.

"Who is this? No matter. She is food."

Amy's head whipped left and right, surveying the characters inhabiting the room, before the glowing crystalline sword on the ground caught her eye.

Nightmare peered closer at Amy. "...She possesses no taint..."

He abruptly broke into a run as he realized the threat that the girl posed.

Amy and Nightmare dove for the holy blade at the same time.

Amy clutched it first.

When Amy's hand grasped the hilt of Soul Calibur, she tried to roll out of the way of Nightmare as soon as she hit the ground, but she did not. She did not hit the ground at all. Her body was hovering inches above the marble floor. She tried to look up at Nightmare, but she could not; she could not move her neck, or any other part of her body. She was frozen in place.

_Heed my words, she who has claimed me._

A soft, comforting, maternal voice resounded in Amy's mind.

_Your soul is immature. You cannot control my power. The power that you are unable to control will be lost._

Amy was reminded of what happened when Siegfried grasped Soul Edge while his soul was too immature to handle the power of the blade. The power that he could not handle was spread across the world, resulting in a shower of evil energy that was called the Evil Seed. She had not thought before grabbing the blade – she had not realized that she was in danger of unleashing another Evil Seed. But since Soul Calibur was a holy weapon, would the resulting shower of energy be holy? A Holy Seed?

_Your soul is exceptionally young – it has scarcely developed at all since birth. You can only control a fraction of my power. If you choose to wield me now, I will be no stronger than an ordinary blade._

Amy felt insulted, but she acknowledged that the blade was correct. She had never developed at all, never grown as a person. She was virtually the same person that she was as an infant. She would not be able to handle the power of a legendary holy sword.

_There is but one choice I can offer you. The only way for you to wield me without any loss of energy is to become one with me. You and I will become one and the same; your body and your soul will intertwine with mine. If you choose to do this, your body will take a new form, and will never be the same again; to separate would mean death for you._

Amy was worried. She didn't want Soul Calibur to lose its energy, but the only other option was to sacrifice her body for a 'new form' she knew nothing about, and allow this sword to become a part of her. She didn't know what it would be like, and it scared her.

_You and your companions are in grave danger. You are facing an enemy that cannot be defeated without my power, and none of your companions are able to wield me. You are now the only one who can wield my power, but only if you agree to become one with me._

Amy felt uncertain, even if there was nothing to be uncertain about; she only had one option, unless she wanted to die.

_I accept your proposal. I will become one with you._ Amy thought to herself.

_Relax, and free your mind..._

There was a flash of light – no, it was a white aura, so bright that it was blinding. Siegfried and the others shielded their eyes, and Nightmare stumbled backward, seemingly in pain until he removed himself from the vicinity of the aura. The power given off by this aura was so intense that it was physically tangible; as Siegfried and the others were bathed in the aura, they felt soothed, calmed, comforted. It was a positive feeling, a blast of holy energy that rivaled the strength of Nightmare's evil energy.

Finally, the intensity of the aura faded, and all were able to see the source of it – it was Amy, although her appearance was now drastically different from before. Her hair hung straight down, and she was clad in what appeared to be a dress made of the same crystalline material as the holy sword. In her hand was a long, thick rapier made of the same matter. It was Soul Calibur, but it looked different than anyone had ever seen it; it was the purest form of the blade, never seen previously. In this form, the weapon was a blue orb with crystal shards extending outward in the shape of the weapon that the user is most familiar with; in this case, a rapier.

Expressing shock was of no use to Nightmare; he wasted no time in assaulting Amy. He lunged forward and swung Soul Edge at her, who was bewildered and staring down at herself in shock. She looked up and saw Nightmare just a moment before he swung Soul Edge at her – but the sword cleaved through nothing but thin air. Amy was now standing beside Nightmare. She had evidently dodged his attack, although no one had seen her move.

Nightmare swung Soul Edge out to his side, unleashing a shockwave of evil energy simply with the movement of his sword – but neither the sword or the wave of energy hit anything, as Amy's new location was above Nightmare's horned head. She leapt through the air, landing some distance behind him, as softly as a feather, as though she had slowed down and floated to the ground at the end of her jump. Nightmare roared in fury and charged at Amy, who now raised Soul Calibur and adopted an aggressive stance. As she did so, the blade of Soul Calibur extended, becoming almost lance-like in length.

Nightmare slashed at her and she slashed back, deflecting his attack. Both when they were swung and when they struck one another, both weapons let lose shockwaves of energy, causing the ground to tremble and the air to fill with a low hum. A few of the stray waves of energy cleaved right through Siegfried and the other onlookers, who felt as though they had just been hit by the blades themselves. They instantly fell back, taking cover around corners and behind sculptures to avoid being harmed by the stray energy. The shockwaves produced when the two weapons clashed were even more destructive, causing craters and gashes to appear in the floor, walls, and ceiling, shattering statues and causing some of the less-supported parts of the room to collapse entirely.

_**Perfect**_, said the invisible onlooker, as events unfolded exactly as planned.

Nightmare and Amy continued to trade blows, with Amy dodging faster than the eye could see on some occasions, and simply deflecting Nightmare's blows at other opportunities. She was staying on the defensive, testing her enemy, gauging him, just like her papa had taught her to. Finally, she struck back at him, countering a dodged attack with a heavy blow. Nightmare was knocked backward and tumbled across the ground, only to right himself while still in motion, and skid to a stop. Nightmare raised Soul Edge and then furiously struck the ground, sending a very large shockwave heading across the floor straight for Amy. She leapt over it, sailed through the air toward Nightmare, spun herself in mid-flight to gain momentum, and then delivered a heavy slash to Nightmare at full force and speed. He was knocked off the ground and sent flying away even further than he had gone the last time he was attacked, tumbling across the ground painfully until he finally reached a stop. He immediately leapt to his feet and launched himself toward her by simply kicking the ground.

It was clear to the onlookers that the nature of this fight would be completely unlike anything that had come before it. This was a duel between two supernatural entities that would involve forces and feats never before seen in combat; the principles and techniques they had learned would be of no use against such beings. Siegfried and the others hid as Amy and Nightmare dueled, knowing that their intervention would do nothing.

_This is it. This power will bring me eternal rest once and for all!_

The two swords each emitted an aura that opposed the other. Where their spheres of influence intersected, a realm of pure chaos was formed. To merely stand between the two blades was to bask in their divergence. Zasalamel felt as though his very soul was being ripped apart by the conflict of the swords, but although the pain that this wrought upon him would have been enough to drive a normal man to insanity, it only served to bring a rare smile to Zasalamel's lips.

As he hovered near the ceiling of the room, parallel to the ground so as to view the conflict unfolding before him, Zasalamel felt certain that the waves of energy ripping through him would be enough to shatter his soul and the curse that bound him to life. At long last, he would finally be able to escape this endless, cursed cycle of reincarnation, once and for all...

...But each time that a wave of energy cleaved through him, Zasalamel felt something else beside the agonizing pain and the euphoric satisfaction of impending death...for each burst of energy that came from the two swords, he beheld visions.

Towering structures that seemed to reach as high as heaven itself...

Steel boats that flew freely through the skies...

The birth of a plan for leaving the world and striking a path toward the stars, and the achievement of that goal...

The creation of new life, the province of the gods themselves...

The tortured mind of a dying brain could conjure any number of absurd visions – but Zasalamel felt as though he was not viewing hallucinations, but in fact reality. What appeared now in his mind's eye was real; it was simply not real _yet_. He was witnessing the future, and the sum of all human potential.

These revelations that appeared to him stirred something within him, something familiar, something he had forgotten long ago...

...The will to live.

For the first time in centuries, a desire to continue living swelled inside of him. He had to be there with those visions became reality – he had to be there to see it happen – he had to witness these events!

And he had to protect humanity, to allow its potential to blossom and give birth to these amazing accomplishments.

His eyes, glazed over from the pain and the pleasure alike, returned to the two swords. Now, when he beheld them, he saw not tools to use for his death, but two forces that threatened the future of humanity. Now, when he felt those waves of energy tear through him, he did not feel satisfied that his plan had come to fruition, but fearful that his life would end before he could witness the glorious future ahead of him.

The visions granted to him by the bending of space and time had restored Zasalamel's faith in the potential of mankind. The ancient man swiftly made a decision; no longer would he reject his immortality...instead, he would embrace it. The path he walked stretched to the ends of eternity, and he would not allow these two swords to destroy his lives to come.

Zasalamel was fearful of endangering himself by intervening directly in the battle – instead, he would wait until the most opportune moment to lend his assistance.

The battle between the two superbeings waged on. The two swords that had been harmlessly intertwined for a year's time now lusted to destroy one another. Nightmare had transcended the need for a host body, and thus Soul Edge was now unhindered by the constraints of a flawed wielder – however, it was still incomplete; one half had been taken by Cervantes, and later crushed by Ivy, and yet more of the sword had been fragmented and scattered across the world. As large and intimidating as the abominable sword was now, Soul Edge now held less than half of its former power, one half of which it would never see again.

Additionally, in merging with Amy, Soul Calibur had been able to obtain a free range of movement without any dilution of its power. Soul Calibur was now more than a match for the sword it had been born from. The two blades were roughly equivalent to one another in power, neither able to topple the other, but both endlessly trying – it was the same state they had existed in previously, but now, their separation allowed them to actively clash rather than passively assert their influence.

And, indeed, the two swords did clash. Every time the two blades touched, the ensuing shockwaves caused cracks to appear in the nearby architecture, until the pillars that held the ceiling aloft began to crumble. When the first column collapsed, Siegfried and the other onlookers fled to the nearest hallway for safety, only moments before chunks of the ceiling began to plummet down into the room. The first chunk was seized by Nightmare and flung toward Amy, who deftly dodged the projectile and then returned fire with the next large piece of the ceiling that landed nearby her. Now that a new standard for combat had been formed, the two made use of every statue, sculpture, and pillar within their reach as some form of cover or missile.

The two warriors tore the chamber apart, either incidentally with the swings of their weapons, or purposefully in an attempt to destroy the other. In a matter of minutes, the chamber was in ruins, the once beautiful room completely defaced, the ceiling gone completely. Black clouds brewed above, as though summoned by the forces dueling beneath them, and the setting sun turned the horizon red and orange, as if the battle of the two entities had scorched the sky itself.

The hellish backdrop suited the two opponents, who both fought with the ferocity of demons – despite the holiness of one. Although neither force was naturally weak to the other, one of the beings slowly began to surpass the other. Even though their strength was equal, their battleground was flat-leveled, and there were no elements interfering with their duel, Nightmare appeared to be gradually wearing Amy down. Soul Calibur was younger than Soul Edge, and had spent more time dormant than its sister blade; the experience that Edge had gained over its lifetime eclipsed that of Calibur, which was now falling prey to the battle expertise that its foe had gained over centuries past.

Although Amy held her ground at first, she soon had to concentrate most of her effort on dodging or blocking Nightmare's attacks. Each blow cost her energy, leaving her even more susceptible to Nightmare's assault. Minutes before, the battle had begun with Amy taking Nightmare by surprise, but now that this advantage had worn off, Amy was slowly becoming little more than a punching bag. She clearly saw that the outcome of the battle spelled her doom, and began to dash away from Nightmare, circling him and flipping away from him, desperately attempting to devise a way to regain her lost advantage.

"It is no use to resist me," Nightmare growled. "You are merely a fragment of me that was torn away long ago, twisted into something holy. You were forged from me! Neither of us will be complete until we are reunited. I will absorb you, corrupt your holiness, and become complete once more!"

Nightmare gathered energy, then released it in a blast directly behind him. He shot forward at incredible speed, and was upon Amy faster than she could react. He lashed out with his giant clawed arm and snapped it shut around Amy's willowy frame. He emitted a sound of pain as the holy energy of Soul Calibur stung his mouth-like claw, but kept it closed tightly around the girl. She arched her back and screamed in agony as Nightmare's aura began to pervade her own, contaminating her with impurity and twisting her holiness into dark energy for him to feast upon.

Amy struggled back, attempting to attack him with bursts of holy energy, but Nightmare held fast, even though the holiness appeared to harm him. When attacking proved futile, she attempted to counter his assault by absorbing and converting his own energy – but she could not mimic his actions effectively.

Siegfried and his three comrades began to panic – they had already been anxious, but now the battle seemed to have taken a sharp turn for the worse. Siegfried wordlessly signaled to the rest – _attack at the same time from all sides_, he said with his hands, and then others nodded in acknowledgment. Stealthily but quickly, they navigated the room until all were on opposite sides of Nightmare, and then they descended upon him all at once.

When Nightmare caught Siegfried swinging the Requiem out of the corner of his eye, he reacted quickly by whipping around and holding Amy out in front of him. Siegfried skidded to a halt, his iron boots screeching against the marble floor, his Zweihänder halting only inches from Amy's neck, before Soul Edge collided with him and sent him flying across the room. The blades of Ivy's snake sword wrapped around his clawed arm, which he then swung in a wild arc, whipping Ivy over his head and into the ground with force that formed cracks in the floor beneath her. Nightmare felt a painful sensation in his back, and dealt with it by swinging Soul Edge perpendicular to his spine. Sophitia ripped her sword out of Nightmare's back and leapt away just in time to prevent being cleaved in two. All of these events occurred within the same moment in time – Nightmare's use of Amy as a shield doubled as the swing that countered Ivy's grip, neither of which impeded his ability to swing Soul Edge at Sophitia behind him.

Taki, harboring much faith in her companions, but doubting their ability to so much as scratch Nightmare, did not attack simultaneously with the rest. Instead, she waited for just a few seconds, and then unleashed the same bombardment of magic spells that she had launched a few minutes prior. Her barrage was not as damaging this time, but still would have wounded her allies if she had used it while they were attacking – instead, she waited until after Nightmare had finished defending himself before striking. She concentrated her attacks at a single point on Nightmare's body – the wrist of his right 'hand'. The claw flew open as soon as it was struck, and Amy fell away and rolled across the ground to safety. Nightmare wasted no time in diving straight for Amy to grab her once more, but found that something seemed to be weighing him down. He jerked his horned head around to see what slowed him, and saw a flash of green behind him. He swung Soul Edge at his back to cast off whatever clung to him, which was exactly what Tira hoped he would do.

All present were shocked to see Tira suddenly appear on the scene, swinging from a fallen support beam and landing on Nightmare's back. When he swung the sword at her, she swiftly dodged while swinging her ringblade toward Soul Edge, and the demonic sword plunged through the loop of her ringblade. Nightmare lashed out to grab her with his clawed arm, and once again Tira dodged while maneuvering her ringblade to be in the path of Nightmare's attack. His claw dove through the gap of her weapon, becoming caught in it as much as Soul Edge – and now that both claw and sword were jammed into the hole, Nightmare had effectively bound his wrists together.

The others were shocked to see the woman who had betrayed them return so suddenly, and turn the tide of the battle so quickly. "NOW!" She shouted, and the others snapped their attention away from her and back to Nightmare, who they descended upon in a flurry of steel. Again and again his armored body was struck by a multitude of swords of various sizes, from the gargantuan Zweihänder to a pair of diminutive ninja blades. He was attacked from every side, his assailants only staying their hands when a comrade was in their line of attack. Nicks appeared all over the azure armor of the demon, and the glowing core at his center pulsated with pain as each blow cost him energy. Faced with only one opponent, he would have slaughtered any of them, and with the use of both his hands, he would have been unstoppable – but his bound wrists made him little more than a recipitant for a never-ending hail of blades.

Nightmare struggled with the ringblade binding him, but with both of his wrists incapable of moving, he could not gather the strength to shatter the weapon. Rage boiled within him as he grew frustrated with his binding, irritated at the pinpricks stabbing him from all sides, and then fearful as he realized that he could truly die if he did not free himself quickly. It was Amy's attacks that stung the most and dealt significant damage to him – he had underestimated Soul Calibur and the treat it posed. Indeed, he would die within minutes if he simply stood by and did nothing.

If he did not have the strength to fight or to flee, then he would simply obtain that strength.

Nightmare thrust his arms toward the sky, his wrists still bound together, but Soul Edge pointing skyward. As his assailants ceaselessly struck him, he took every blow without so much as a single wince. The weapon in his hands began to glow, and halfway across the world, so too did something else...

In the pockets of merchants, in the collections of alchemists, in the galleries of museums, in the blades of warriors, in the depths of the earth and the sea, dozens of metal fragments all across the world began to glow blood red. They rattled and shook, vibrating with an ominous hum, until they abruptly pointed northward, and then even more suddenly shot off into the sky with more speed than any object had ever been propelled in history.

The red shards tore across the sky, leaving red trails behind them, seeming to scar the sky itself and leave a bloody trail behind. Each of these pieces of metal, these fragments of Soul Edge scattered across the globe years earlier, now soared through the sky toward a single position on a remote, forgotten island. The metal fragments fell in a dazzling rain of red light upon the Lost Cathedral, all of them diving directly toward Soul Edge. The evil blade drank in the fragments, growing in size and power with each piece. Each shard added to Nightmare's strength, darkening his aura even blacker.

"...A reverse Evil Seed?" Siegfried whispered with both awe and fear.

As the rain of metal fragments amplified the power of Nightmare and Soul edge, both began to transform and shift.

Every aspect of his appearance changed drastically and quickly. The unicorn-like spire coming out of his helmet transformed into a blade that glowed red with heat, the sharp engravings on his helmet turned into fangs, the giant mouth on his shoulder traveled down to his abdomen where it opened to reveal a white and purple core that spat out wisps of black and purple smoke. His clawed right hand grew larger and more deadly, the armor on his left arm and legs extended, sharpened, and became more muscular, and even his armored boots transformed entirely, becoming horse-like hooves of steel. He was no longer a rattling collection of possessed armor, but a being of flesh and blood with thick armor for skin.

The transformation of Soul Edge was even more extreme; it changed from an ugly construct of misshapen flesh and steel to a lethal work of art. It was giant now, almost twice its former size, with a hilt like a battleaxe, a center made of jagged stony spikes, an eyeball that was purple, red, and yellow, and a blade that was crystalline and glowed red as though it was still in the forge. The weapon was symmetrical now, no longer looked like a sloppy monstrosity, but a sword as beautiful as it was horrifying.

"_**Fitting."**_ Boomed a deep, rumbling voice that that simply reverberated outward from Nightmare's new form.

Of all the monsters and freaks that Siegfried and his companions had encountered, the new Nightmare was by far the most fearsome and intimidating in appearance. The aura and sheer amount of power that Nightmare was radiating was comparable to what Siegfried had felt in the presence of Hephaestus. The four of them cowered in fear before their enemy – the fright that they felt beforehand was nothing to the horrific terror that they felt now. They had never faced an enemy with this much power before, and had no idea how to battle an enemy that transcended the normal means of combat. Not only did they now face Nightmare, the most fearsome force that any of them had ever encountered, but now he wielded a complete blade of Soul Edge missing none of its power; the most dangerous weapon that could possibly exist – and now, both of these threats were magnified in power to mythical status.

They desperately searched for a single sign of hope, but found none. A feeling of doom swallowed all present; there appeared to be no possible way that any of them would survive this encounter.

When the last fragment of the Soul Edge was reunited with it, completing the blade, Nightmare spread his arms apart violently, tearing Tira's ringblade into two mangled halves. Nightmare turned toward Amy, disregarding the others, mere insects to him now. Without warning, he shot toward Amy with such speed that he was but a blur to the onlookers. He delivered a blow to her before she could even react, and then seemed to materialize behind her, where he struck her yet again. As she flew forward, he instantaneously moved before her and slashed sideways, sending her flying to the side, where she met Nightmare's blade once again. The Azure Knight moved swiftly to whatever destination he sent her to, batting her around the room ceaselessly. Amy attempted to fight back, but she was powerless before such a being. The power of a completed Soul Edge over Soul Calibur was now more than evident.

Siegfried, Ivy, Sophitia, and Taki darted glances at once another anxiously, each hoping that one of the others had any clue what to do. Their eyes found Tira, weaponless, cowering nearby. She had betrayed both them and Nightmare, but they were desperate enough to ignore her untrustworthiness if she could assist them. She looked at them pleadingly, searching their eyes for answers to the dilemma before them, and they knew that she was no less powerless than they were.

All they could do now was to behold the battle before them – or rather, watch the butchery of Amy. Each blow that Nightmare delivered to the girl's crystalline armor sent shards of it flying away, until whole parts of her armor were missing. Splashes of crimson splattered the floor and the walls as Nightmare began to draw Amy's blood. When Soul Edge could no longer protect Amy with its armor, and when Amy's fragile body was finally broken, the only force that could resist Nightmare would be silenced forever.

Zasalamel would not let this happen.

The next time that Nightmare swung Soul Edge at Amy, the sword violently changed direction as soon as it drew near her. The unexpected and powerful movement of his sword threw Nightmare off balance, and he stumbled backwards. A powerful impact suddenly struck him in his chest, and he fell to the ground. Once there, he found that he could no longer move his limbs – they were shackled to the ground, as if they had been bound there.

"WHAT?" Nightmare roared with a voice that scorched the air.

Exerting so much power to keep Nightmare immobile left Zasalamel without the energy to levitate or conceal himself. He stood on the ground in front of Nightmare, his hands stretched outward and his palms pointing at the demon.

"This may be your last chance." Zasalamel said. "I will weaken his defenses and make him susceptible to your attacks. Hurry."

Siegfried and the others could not believe their eyes. It was not once, but twice now within a very brief time frame that their former adversaries had suddenly become their advocates. Tira was disloyal and was formerly in love with Siegfried – it was surprising, but not unbelievable that she would revolt against him. Zasalamel, however, had attacked them, placed curses upon them, manipulated them, misled them, tortured them, caused Yun-Seong to take Talim's life, and, apparently, Zasalamel was the one who had enabled Nightmare's return in the first place. The sight of him exhausting himself to keep their worst enemy pinned down was quite impossible to believe. For a few moments, they hesitated, first from disbelief, and then from a strong desire not to accept Zasalamel as their savior. They did not want to be rescued by this man of all people – but they had no other alternative, and this was not the time to be picky about their redeemer. Everything was changing so rapidly; they did not have time to ponder their alliances, only to act.

They rushed Nightmare, descending upon him all at once as they had done twice before – separate, they might have not had the courage to approach him, even as defenseless as he seemed now. Their weapons were dulled and fractured from their previous attempts to wound him and from the shockwaves of energy that had violently cleaved through them, but they raised their tattered weapons and struck the Azure Knight with every last ounce of strength they had. Each one of them, by this point, was exhausted and fatigued beyond the limits of a normal person, but their hatred for Nightmare and their determination to see this accursed conflict resolved gave them enough strength to charge him and launch one last assault. Siegfried, Ivy, Sophitia, and Taki raised what was left of their mangled weapons and brought them down upon their foe. Even Tira launched an assault of her own, wielding one half of her sundered ringblade. Amy lay on the ground a few feet away, heaving in pain, in no shape to join them.

When their weapons cleaved into Nightmare's armor-flesh, he gave cries of pain that none would ever have expected to hear from him. Their attacks should have been but mere pinpricks to him, but whatever sorcery Zasalamel had mastered was granting them one chance to damage him as though they were each wielding Soul Calibur itself.

Nightmare twisted and squirmed and thrashed, struggling to free himself from whatever spell was binding him to the ground. The damage being wrought upon him as far greater than he could bear, and he screamed in agony, a dark sound unlike any other noise, almost piercing enough to split the eardrum. He quickly decided that if he was facing adversaries whom could devise ways to render him defenseless, then this was truly not a battle worth fighting. He would have crushed them if it were not for the intervention of this dark-skinned man – he would simply have to destroy the man when the others could not support them, or destroy the others when their new guardian was not present...and this meant that he would have to depart and devour them another time.

Nightmare became still, and the glowing orbs in his helmet and at his torso dimmed. He ceased to resist the attacks of his assailants. He relaxed his body and began to concentrate. To the others, his lack of opposition appeared to be an admission of defeat. This sign was the first beacon of hope that had lit their darkened lives in months – imbued with a renewed sense of determination and a hope they had never felt before, they redoubled their efforts to destroy Nightmare, attacking him even more viciously, before the unexpected occurred.

Zasalamel was the first to sense it, and reacted accordingly. "Stop attacking! Move away!" He instructed tersely. The others hesitated, seeing no reason to show mercy to their foe in his weakest moment. "He is preparing something I cannot prevent, and cannot protect you from!"

Taki was the second to feel it coming, and flipped away immediately. The others knew that Taki was neither compliant nor cowardly, and that she was acting prudently rather than following Zasalamel's advice. They followed her, moving away briskly, leaving their eternal foe defenseless on the ground.

Nightmare began to tremble and shake, quaking with instability as he gathered every last bit of his power and began to concentrate it into a single point. Abruptly and with a deafening rumble, a black sphere expanded rapidly outward from Nightmare's position. The release of energy evaporated everything within a spherical radius of Nightmare, forming a crater in the marble beneath him, and blasting Zasalamel away with force that sent him through five walls before he came to a stop. Nightmare's own release of energy blasted him into the sky, above the clouds. He soared off into the distance, leaving a blood-red trail of energy behind him.

"He fled?" Sophitia asked.

"We let him flee?" Ivy demanded.

"We could not have stopped him even if we had tried." Taki replied. "We are lucky to have escaped that confrontation with our lives."

"Nightmare, and Soul Edge, loose upon the world..." Siegfried mused mournfully.

All eyes went to Amy. She lay on the ground in a heap of cracked crystal and blood, unmoving. The others rushed to her side, Tira keeping a safe distance away. Amy's body bore several mortal wounds. Soul Calibur was struggling to keep its host alive, attempting to heal the wounds, but Amy stood no chance of recovering from such injuries.

"Amy!" Ivy cried with uncharacteristic panic.

Amy's voice came from her lips, but somehow it did not sound as though it were her own. "This body cannot be saved. I will calm the girl's mind and ensure that she will be comfortable as she expires."

"You're not Amy?" Ivy muttered. "What are you? The will of Soul Calibur...?"

"We can't let her die!" Sophitia cried desperately. "There has to be a way to save her!"

"She is beyond your assistance now." Amy said. "We must communicate while her heart still beats. We must forge a plan."

"O Holy Sword, tell us what you require." Taki said, refusing to waste time, and giving the sacred blade its due respect.

"My potential cannot be awakened without a suitable wielder." Soul Calibur said through Amy, even as blood dribbled from her lips. "To destroy Soul Edge, you must locate someone who is compatible with me. None of you will be able to wield me – you are all tainted."

"None of us?" Sophitia asked dejectedly. "All this work, and now none of us can use Soul Calibur...?"

"I believe there is something that can be done about that."

A voice that had come to be associated with evil and manipulation was heard from behind them. Siegfried and his companions turned around and beheld a tattered and bleeding Zasalamel limping their way.

"I can remove the stain that contaminates your souls." Zasalamel said. "I can make you all compatible with the holy blade."

"Outcast, I thank you for your assistance." Amy said.

"Have I atoned for my attempted theft?" Zasalamel mused. "Despite my exile, I will once again devote myself to your protection."

"What are you talking about?" Sophitia asked. "Who ARE you?"

"Now is not the time." Zasalamel said. "I must purify your souls so that the sword may choose its next wielder before your comrade perishes."

"What?" Ivy demanded. "You want us to accept your help after all you've done to – "

"Ivy." Siegfried said abruptly, the first time he had spoken in quite some time.

"I know I have wronged you." Zasalamel said. "I acted selfishly, in my own interest – as I do now. I am not offering you my assistance in return for your forgiveness. I will help you now because you may be the only ones who are capable of saving the future of humanity. Now...be still."

Zasalamel approached Siegfried, and raised a hand. Siegfried fought the reflex to reach for his weapon – there was nothing he could do now but trust the moor who had once cursed him. He stayed his hand and tried to relax as Zasalamel placed a hand on his forehead. A disturbing, sickening feeling rushed through him, and he fought the sudden rush of bile rising to his throat. He sharply jerked away from Zasalamel. "Yet more trickery from you?!" He demanded.

"I have removed the taint upon your soul." Zasalamel said. "No longer are you unable to wield the holy sword."

Amy's eyes fell upon Siegfried. "Compatible." She said simply. "This one may wield me. A fine host he would be. What lies within his soul is Redemption."

Zasalamel cured the others in turn – Sophitia, Taki, and a very nervous Tira who was staying eerily silent throughout this exchange. Zasalamel did not draw near Ivy.

"Baring a grudge?" The woman asked.

"Your blood itself is tainted." Zasalamel replied. "There is nothing that can be done for you." Ivy did not seem to be phased by this remark, having expected such a development.

"Redemption, Truth, Honor, Torment." Amy said cryptically. "Of the four hosts available to me, I would place myself within the hands of Redemption. He is the holder of the most powerful of all human emotions...Regret. His will to redeem himself grants him a determination that will give him the courage to slay any evil."

_So, if I did not have any actions to regret, I would not be a suitable host_? Siegfried wondered. _Is it fortunate, that I have committed atrocities?_

"A soul that is forced to undergo the trials of repentance will be stronger than any other." The sword said, as if in reply to his thoughts. "Siegfried Schtauffen, former puppet of the evil blade, liberate the world from his menace in order to redeem yourself. Wield me and destroy the bane of humanity."

Amy gently laid her head back, and relaxed her body. As her heartbeat slowed, the crystals that composed her armor slid across her skin to her hand, where she still gripped the blade of Soul Calibur. Once the blade was complete, its host perished, and Soul Calibur dropped from Amy's hand. The clattering of the sword against the marble floor was the only eulogy that the distant girl would receive. Ivy turned away as Amy died – she was the only one among them who had been close to the girl, and, perhaps, Amy was the only one who had ever been cared for by Ivy.

"Wield it, Schtauffen." Zasalamel commanded, as though Siegfried required any motivation. The German gazed at Zasalamel for a moment, attempting to understand the enigma of a man, before simply giving up. He stepped forward and knelt before the corpse of Amy, moving his hand downward across her face to close her eyes, and then grasped the hilt of Soul Calibur.

Instantly, the blade transformed, taking the shape that its wielder was most accustomed to. It retained the form of an icy blue sphere surrounded by floating crystals, but the crystals elongated in the shape of a Zweihänder blade. Although the sword was asymmetrical and seemed to be made of jagged glass, it was still a beautiful construct that rivaled Soul Edge in deadly magnificence.

"Soul Calibur," Siegfried said breathlessly, in awe of the weapon he held. He had carried the weapon on his back for the past year of his life, but the sight of his own hands gripping the hilt of the weapon was still overwhelming. He now held the weapon that could destroy Soul Calibur, the tool that could redeem his sin of enabling Nightmare to slay thousands. It had chosen him, and he would pick no other weapon to be his. It was weightless in his hands, lighter than a feather, as though the sword refused to be a burden upon him. He waved it in a mock swing, feeling anxious to test it out in combat – but, at the same time, he felt that it would be a crime to use such a sacred weapon for anything other than the destruction of its counterpart.

"Wield it respectfully, Schtauffen." Zasalamel said.

Reminded of Zasalamel's presence, Siegfried turned around and let all of his thoughts fall from his mouth. "Who are you and where did you come from? What is it that you've been after this whole time? Why must you manipulate us and use us as your puppets? Why would you help us now?"

Zasalamel's hands were gripping his wounds – not in pain; he was silently casting healing spells from his palms to his injuries. He appeared to be gravely wounded, but showed no sign of pain as he worked at his own scars. "I suppose I do owe you, at the very least, an explanation." He conceded.

"Centuries ago, there lived a man named Algol. He was known as the Hero King. He was able to obtain Soul Edge and avoid being controlled by it, due to his indomitable will. The powerful weapon allowed him to end a great many conflicts and secure many lands in his name...But although he thirsted for dominion of the world, he was a benevolent ruler, and life under his rule was peaceful. His son, Arcturus, was jealous of his father's power. He took Soul Edge, unaware of his malevolent properties, and was possessed. Algol was forced to battle and kill his own son.

"Remorseful after his son's death, Algol desired to create a sword to counter the evil within Soul Edge. Using purified shards obtained from the battle with his son and the assistance of various sages, Algol was able to create Soul Calibur after many failed attempts and the sacrifice of his own life. However, the ritual produced unexpected results: the blade created was extremely similar in nature to Soul Edge, due to the restlessness in Algol's soul. The tribe that was tasked with the protection of the new sword slowly purified it, sealing the Hero King's soul inside, keeping him and his thirst for power dormant over the centuries."

"Then, this blade...Siegfried gazed at his reflection in the crystalline fragments that composed Soul Calibur. "It houses the soul of this ancient Hero King, Algol? The voice that spoke through Amy...was that Algol himself?"

"Algol is dormant within the blade, forever in a state of slumber." Zasalamel said. "The voice which spoke to you was the will of the sword, just as Nightmare is the will of Soul Edge."

"Thank you for the history lesson," Ivy said dryly, "But you haven't explained who you are or why you've been at our throats for this past year."

"I hail from the tribe that was tasked with the protection of Soul Calibur. I was...angered by the tribe's edicts that forbade the use of the sword. I argued that, if a crisis were to occur, we should be allowed to wield the blade...but the rest of the tribe disagreed. I was believed that I would be a better protector of the sword than the rest of my tribe, and attempted to steal the sword away. When trying to take Soul Calibur, I was discovered and banished from the tribe. I spent the rest of that lifetime in pursuit of ancient and forbidden knowledge long thought to be lost, until I attained the art of reincarnation. Through rebirth after each death, I became immortal.

"...However...over the course of my many lifetimes, I have lost interest in living. Joy is unknown to me now, and the pain of death has increased with every subsequent reincarnation. I was ready to leave the mortal coil and rest, and so I sought a way to end my 'curse'. I tried many things over a course of several lifetimes, but still, eternal death eluded me. That was when I remembered Soul Edge…I spent a lifetime searching for the blade, which I eventually obtained. I attempted to use its soul-devouring properties to commit a form of suicide and release myself from the circle of eternal reincarnations...but even death by Soul Edge was not enough. I turned his hopes to Soul Calibur, but when I reached the place where his tribe existed, I found no traces of it or the holy sword.

"Desperate, I hoped that the power of both Soul Calibur and Soul Edge would be enough to shatter my soul...but I discovered that Soul Edge had lost half of his body and become sealed, and that Soul Calibur had been infected by evil, gradually losing its strength. In order to restore both blades to their power, I revived the will of the sword in the form of Nightmare. In order to aid the sword in its restoration, I needed to create conflict within the bearer of both blades, and so I led survivors of Nightmare's past massacres towards him. If Soul Edge regained its strength, so would Soul Calibur in order to confront it. By forcing you to undergo so many trials, both swords were returned to power."

"...So that's it?" Siegfried asked incredulously. "You made us suffer because our conflict and strife would feed both swords?"

"That is correct." Zasalamel said.

"So, because you can't escape a spell you put on yourself, and because you can't derive any happiness from life anymore, you think that it's perfectly fine to cause others to suffer?" Ivy demanded. "You must be the most selfish, egocentric, insensitive, inconsiderate, shameless bastard that has ever lived! There's not even a point in berating you for being so disgraceful, because you don't feel any form of regret for your actions, do you?! You simply don't care who or what you hurt as long as you get your way!"

"That is correct." Zasalamel said in a flat and toneless voice devoid of any emotion. "That is exactly why I wanted to die; I feel nothing anymore. There is no point in feeling anything toward anyone – I have watched so many people suffer and die that person's distress means anything to me anymore. Not yours, not mine. Eventually, you will all die and disappear forever, but I will simply continue. I will simply...continue. Endlessly."

The others struggled to relate to Zasalamel, but could not. None of them could ever know how he felt, since they would need a dozen more lifetimes to come close to understanding him. All they could do was try to swallow their hatred for him just enough to tolerate him.

"So, what of your plan to attain death?" Siegfried asked. "When the two swords were separated, you did not seize them."

"I waited for two wielders to unleash their power, so that my soul could bask in the chaos and be torn asunder." Zasalamel said. "But when the two swords clashed, I...I saw..." His head tipped back as he became lost in thought. "...The sum of all human potential...everything possible, everything that is to come, accomplishments that will outshine the Lost Cathedral a thousand times over...but only if the two swords are stopped. I must witness these events. Even if I must perish and be reborn over and over again to experience those occurrences, I simply must ensure that they come to pass."

"And, let me guess – you'll hurt anyone who gets in your way, just so you can see something happen a few hundred years from now." Ivy said. "You certainly are a shining paragon of moral perfection."

"To be berated by you is quite ironic, Miss Valentine." Zasalamel retorted. "I plan to protect the future of humanity – from this point forward, I will only cause harm to that which threatens the future."

"What if tormenting us for the rest of our lifetimes will protect the future?" Ivy said snidely. "You already found some justification for doing it once before. Can we look forward to that, then?"

"I find it unlikely that the emotional stability of your group is relevant to my purposes any longer." Zasalamel said. "From now on, I will do whatever I can to ensure that both swords are destroyed."

"Both swords?" Sophitia asked. "Why destroy Soul Calibur?"

"It is a weapon capable of untold destruction." Zasalamel replied. "If corrupted, it could become another Soul Edge. As long as it exists, men will seek it for selfish purposes. Although the destruction of Soul Edge is a higher priority, the holy blade must be crushed, as well."

Siegfried looked down at the sword in his hands. "A tool I must use for one purpose, then destroy...I accept this. Such weapons as this should not exist." He raised his head. "Zasalamel, our goals do not conflict. May we count you as our ally?"

Protest stirred within the others, but they did not raise their voices. Zasalamel was their savior not minutes before, and no longer held an antagonistic position toward them. There was not a single person present who did not find him to be despicable, but if they could make use of his godlike abilities, then he would be invaluable to them.

"My recent intervention caused me to exhaust almost all of my energy." Zasalamel replied. "I will be of little use to you until I have finished recuperating. I suggest that you do not wait for me; seek Nightmare, and slay him."

"Good enough. I would find it nearly impossible to tolerate you, much less cooperate with you." Ivy snapped.

"...Zasalamel?" Sophitia asked timidly. "I...have a question."

"Speak." He said simply.

"If Soul Edge is destroyed, what will become of...those tainted by it?"

"When the evil blade is annihilated, Patroklos and Pyrrha will die, as you fear. Isabella Valentine will perish, as well." Zasalamel said without emotion.

Sophitia's hands flew to her mouth and she stepped back in shock, as if trying to distance herself from this revelation. She shook her head furiously, trying to refute what she had just heard. Ivy showed no reaction at all – she had predicted and accepted her fate long, long ago.

As the group drank in this news in silence, Siegfried's eyes drifted to Tira, who had been silently watching the group from a short distance away. She had not concealed herself, a sign that she was not hostile, but she appeared ready to bolt away at the first sign that the group still rejected her.

"What are we going to do about the traitor, anyway?" Ivy asked.

"...Tira." Siegfried said softly, simply.

Tira's voice seemed to be lost. She found herself unable to do anything but stare into her former lover's eyes.

"Who's side are you on?" Ivy demanded tersely.

"...I reject Nightmare." Tira said. "I do not align myself with him anymore."

"Then, who do you align yourself with?" Ivy asked, always one for direct and straightforward questions.

"I don't know." She said. "But, I'm...I'm sorry for betraying you. I should never have abandoned you. I didn't know what I had until I threw it away. It was a mistake. ...I...I wish I'd never left." The girl seemed to be on the brink of tears. "If...if I had a choice, I'd want to be aligned with all of you again. It was...the only period of my life when I actually felt as though I belonged. I want to go back to those days...but I understand if you hate me and will never forgive me."

Siegfried's companions darted glances at once another, and all of their eyes finally came to Siegfried.

"...I understand why you left. I don't blame you. I mistreated you." He said simply. "I have learned why I was wrong. I would never mistreat you again."

"...M-Master." Tira said, her voice and her body shaking. She bolted at Siegfried with swiftness usually reserved for combat, and threw herself at him. She buried her head against his chest, and even though it was covered in hard and jagged armor, it was the most comfortable place she could have been. Siegfried put one arm around her, feeling an overwhelming wave of relief and comfort to see the woman he had thought to be lost forever return to his arms.

Ivy opened her mouth to make a disparaging comment, but found Taki's hand covering her lips. The ninja gave her a disapproving look, and she decided she'd stay quiet just this once. Sophitia was still weary of the girl who had attempted to kidnap her children, but understood that Nightmare had played a role in the entire affair, and decided not to just Tira too harshly.

"If you would forgive me and give me a second chance, I would treat you with the respect and loyalty you deserve." Siegfried whispered.

"You've taken the words from my mouth," Tira replied in the same hushed voice.

Zasalamel was the only person callous enough to interrupt their embrace. "To expedite your journey, I can grant you passage to land. However, that will most likely be all that I can do for you for the time being. Shall we depart?"

The dark-skinned, white-cloaked man was courteous enough to give the group enough time to gather their belongings from the boat they had sailed to the island, and also the time to carefully wrap Amy's corpse in cloth. Zasalamel conjured a spherical field around himself and the others, and then began to move the field, transporting them through the air and across the ocean. At a pace that put the fastest of ships to shame, they soared to the northern tip of Great Britain, reaching it within minutes. The group could not resist feeling a sense of envy toward Zasalamel for having the ability to traverse so much space so quickly, and also felt extremely fortunate to be granted a speedy return to land.

Almost immediately after Zasalamel's spherical field reached the northern shore of Britain, he lowered the field and dropped to one knee. "My power is exhausted." He said, showing fatigue for the first time since they had known him. "I have done all that I can do for you." He sat cross-legged in the sand, and then appeared to meditate.

"...We thank you." Siegfried said, with some difficulty, biting back his opinion of the man.

"How are we going to locate Nightmare, anyway?" Ivy asked. "We don't have a clue where he's gone."

"When he propelled himself into the air, he was headed southeast." Zasalamel said. "If I must hypothesize, I would suggest that he aimed himself toward Osthreinsburg. He has claimed it for himself in the past, and it is the closest thing he has ever had to a personal abode. He will most likely dwell there while he recovers his health."

"That is a good lead." Taki conceded. "However, before we attempt to track down Nightmare, we should locate a town where we can recover our strength and repair our equipment. We will also need to devise a plan for the final battle."

"...I don't believe that the rest of you will need to accompany me." Siegfried said.

There was a moment of stunned silence, before an eruption of voices.

"WHAT?"

"Why?!"

"But, Master!"

"Explain yourself, Schtauffen."

"Please, hear me out." Siegfried began. "Nightmare is now as powerful as a god. He could snap any of you in half without effort. Do you recall the power he demonstrated? All of us would have evaporated if we had not retreated when we did. Your weapons can do nothing against him; there is no force in this world that can harm him now but Soul Calibur, and I have been chosen to wield that power.

"We're not useless just because we're not wielding Soul Calibur." Taki said. "There are a number of ways we could still assist you."

"That may be true," Siegfried conceded, "But the only reason that I allowed any of you to travel with me was to ensure that the Soul Embrace would be protected. Now that the Embrace is no more, there is no reason for our coalition to remain. None of you have any need to risk your lives from this point forward; the burden of destroying Soul Edge is on my shoulders now, and I do not wish for any of you to endanger yourselves. I'm the one who brought this calamity down upon us in the beginning...none but me should be tasked with ending it."

"So you're telling us all to just go home and let you take care of things?" Ivy asked. "Not a chance. I've already vowed to make sure that Soul Edge is destroyed, and just because there's someone else on the job, it doesn't mean I'm just going to sit around and do nothing. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried. I'll just stalk you if I have to."

"I respect your desire to protect us from harm, Siegfried." Taki said. "However, I cannot leave this up to you. I will accompany you to protect Soul Calibur and wield it if you should fall in combat."

"I'm not leaving you right after we've been reunited, Master." Tira said firmly and stubbornly. "I've been wishing for this for so long, and I'm not letting it end so quickly."

Siegfried smiled weakly at his comrades' rebuttals. "I should have known it wouldn't be so easy to slip away."

Sophitia had remained deathly silent since they had disembarked from the Lost Cathedral, and even now she did not raise a word of objection to Siegfried. Instead, at this moment, she turned to Zasalamel. "...Is there anything I can do?" She asked, quietly, meekly. "Anything _you_ can do?"

"No." Said the moor. "Your children's fates were sealed the moment your body was pierced by those fragments of Soul Edge. They will persist as long as Soul Edge persists, and perish when Soul Edge perishes. There is nothing I can do to change that, since their connection to Soul Edge is woven into their very lives."

"...I see." She said weakly. "I think...I think I would prefer to return to my family." She said without looking at her companions. "I think that I will not accompany you any longer."

Siegfried and the others could think of no words to say to her. They did not want to lose her, but they also did not want to attempt to convince her to join them in an act that would essentially kill her children.

"I understand, Sophitia." Siegfried said. "I respect that decision. You have been an outstanding companion, and you will be missed. I wish you safe travels, and good fortune."

Sophitia collected her belongings, and was granted one fourth of the group's funds for passage home. She squeaked a few timid farewells to her companions, and then traveled south in a slow and wistful way, as though she was sleepwalking.

"Will you be accompanying us, Zasalamel?" Siegfried asked.

"It will be some time before I can travel again." Zasalamel said. "I will recover my strength here, for this place is as good as any other. I assure you that, when the time comes, we will be reunited."

Siegfried was slightly relieved, since traveling with the moor would be one step below traveling alongside Nightmare himself. Although he would have been grateful to have a companion capable of crossing oceans within minutes, he would not have been comfortable walking beside the man who had caused all of his suffering for the past year. The four of them set out in search of a place to rest, knowing that many settlements were always located close to shorelines.

As the most eventful day of Siegfried's life came to a close, his troubled mind attempted to organize the events that had come to pass. He had seen the Soul Embrace split apart, freeing both swords. He had learned that by bedding his companions, he had passed the influence of Soul Edge into them. He had seen Amy fuse with Soul Calibur, transcending humanity to a godlike form. He had seen Nightmare gather all the shards of Soul Edge that had been lost, elevating himself to godhood as well. He had been rescued by the man he hated the most, a man who was now no longer his enemy. He had watched Amy die, leaving him to become the new wielder of Soul Calibur. He had seen off Sophitia, one of his oldest and most valued comrades.

But what brought him the most pleasure was the return of Tira. With his life endangered for so much of the day, he had been completely unable to express the joy he felt toward her defection against Nightmare. As soon as he knew she was no longer loyal to his adversary, he wanted to whisk her up in his arms, hold her, squeeze her, love her – but the gravity of other issues had kept him from giving her all of the attention that he desired to give her. Now that she was once again at his side, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wanted to ask her so much, to tell her so much, to speak with her about everything – but he was far too weary to form the words. Although Ivy and Taki kept their distance from Tira, still distrustful of her, Siegfried stayed close to her, waiting until the two were alone before he would bask in the affection he had missed for so long.

Not a day had passed without both of them wishing that they could return to those old simple times when they simply cared for one another. Despite all of the complications that had surrounded their parting and their reunion, they did not wish to discuss the pain or the sorrow – simply being in one another's presence once more would satisfy them until they had the time to find the words they wished to speak.


	59. Valiant Heart

"Father, we leave today."

A pair of hands lunged for Hilde, stopping just short of her neck. If the bars of the prison cell had been any shorter, the untrimmed fingernails of the hands would have raked across her skin. The wrinkled, grey-haired inhabitant of the cell gnawed angrily at the metal bars that confined him, snarling like a feral beast in his attempt to reach the young woman sitting in front of him.

"Several of my advisors attempted to convince me not to take the rumors seriously," Hilde began, "but I will not ignore any possible threat to our kingdom. Many of our subjects have never witnessed any form of witchcraft or sorcery, and have little faith in such things. Some have called me a fool for believing that this 'Nightmare' could even exist, but there are far too many reports of him to discard the possibility."

The inhabitant of the cell shook the metal bars that confined him and attempted to pry them apart, but his elderly arms could do nothing. Years of confinement had left him with an almost skeletal frame, despite his caretakers' attempts to nourish him. He barked and growled at the young woman before him with foam falling from his mouth, as determined to reach her this time as he had always been.

"If what I have heard is true, then Nightmare has taken hundreds, possibly thousands of lives. I will not tolerate this monster, not in my kingdom, not anywhere. He must not be permitted to exist. I will dedicate myself to his destruction until he has been slain. He was last spotted in Germany, a neighboring country. I have prepared the entire Wolfkrone army to hunt him down and slay him once and for all."

The elderly man realized the futility in attempting to reach the young woman, and he ceased his efforts. He stared at her hatefully, scrutinizing her with cold, yellowed eyes, lusting for what he could not reach. She was beautiful, with smooth pale skin, long crimson hair, plump pink lips, and a well-developed form. He pressed his face to the bars to examine her as closely as possible, allowing his tongue to hang out of his mouth as he drooled with desire for her.

"Yes, father." She said. "I am now in my 18th year. I am finally considered a woman...although I feel as though my childhood passed by many years ago. I have been leading our country for seven years now...our people praise me as a fine ruler, but I do not know if I am worthy of their respect; I simply follow the examples that you set as leader and uphold the decisions that you made when you were king. Although I have spent seven years on the throne, I still feel as though you are our ruler, with myself as your substitute."

The young woman stood up, and turned away from her father's cell. His hands lashed out in a desperate attempt to grab her dress, but she was just out of his reach. He erupted with words that belonged to no language but would be understood as curses by anyone.

"The first coming of Nightmare was immediately after the Evil Seed occurred. Some claim that the two are connected. If Nightmare is the one who wrought the Evil Seed upon us, then he is responsible for what has become of you. If he truly is to blame for your condition, then vengeance will be delivered to him harshly and without mercy. I swear it."

The young woman turned toward her father, who sat crouched in front of his prison cell bars, looking up at her hungrily. "I must leave now, to prepare for my journey. You will always be my guidance, my liege, and my father. I love you."

The man in the prison cell squinted at his daughter with confusion, and then lazily ambled away from her, no longer finding her to be of interest. Hilde von Krone left the closed stone chamber at the very top of her castle's highest tower, and headed to the barracks to make preparations for her departure.

_There are no other successors to the throne. The people have no one else but you. The kingdom will collapse without you. You must be strong. You have no other choice than to be strong. Weakness is not an option._

---

It had all been so sudden, so abrupt, so unexpected. So many radical changes had occurred in rapid succession, without any chance for the group to recover from one shock before being hit by the next. Some of the most important events had occurred unceremoniously, with little fanfare for such a monumental occasion. It was almost anticlimactic, but at the same time there was still so much to marvel at.

Their days had been plodding along in the same manner for the past year of their lives. Recently, Siegfried and Tira had unknowingly passed the anniversary of their first encounter, and although the others had not been in Siegfried's company for as long, they all felt that there was an excruciating monotony to their lives. For the past year, they had spent the majority of their time in travel, whether by foot or beast, carriage or ship. They had seen more of the world than most of the greatest explorers, but had rarely savored their time in any one spot. The threatening feeling of impending danger had hung over them perpetually. They were never truly able to enjoy their lives, not when they perceived a guillotine above their heads, able to fall at any moment. They simply hurried, rushed, marched to their next destination, always with fear, and never feeling completely safe. The only compasses they had to guide their way were rumors; second-hand accounts, unverified claims, tall tales, any of which had the potential to lead them on a wild goose chase that would only waste their energy and supplies. And, indeed, the majority of their trips had ended without any sort of gain at all, resulting in a feeling of continuous loss of progress. They'd lost track of how many towns and cities they had scoured for information, often forced to pay a greedy interpreter preposterous sums of money for his assistance. They had walked so many roads, encountering bandits and highwaymen more than half of the time. They had never spent more than a week without some form of disaster striking them, whether it was low rations, sickness, or the appearance of an enemy from their pasts. And all the while, their quest against Soul Edge remained fruitless and futile. This handful of experiences characterized every day of their lives; if they were not traveling, they were gathering rumors to obtain a new destination, and if they were not traveling or gathering rumors, they were engaged in combat.

They had few hobbies and fewer interests besides their common goal of destroying the sword that had ruined their lives. It is no surprise that they took whatever chance they could to find comfort and solace, even briefly. Given the risk of death they faced every day, the monotony of their lives, and the stress of their journey, it was only reasonable that they would all seek a way to relieve their tensions. Sex was their best option, as it required nothing more than their own bodies. As time passed, it was literally impossible for any one of them to remain ignorant of the coitus occurring between them all, but they all had far more important matters to concern themselves with than petty jealousy. Few of the women cared if any of the others were sleeping with Siegfried, as they only felt lust towards him, not love, and all (but Tira and Cassandra) had been wise enough to not confuse the two.

They had always feared that their nocturnal romps would present them with consequences, but none of them had ever expected the penalty to be related to Soul Edge. None of them would have ever expected Soul Calibur to reject a wielder desiring it for righteous purposes, and none of them, not even Taki, had been capable of sensing the influence of Soul Edge that existed within every one of them since they laid with Siegfried. During their ordeal in Japan, Tira and Taki had both laid their hands on Soul Calibur with no ill effect; it had never occurred to them that the sword would have rejected them if it had been powerful enough to exert its will at the time.

From the moment that Nightmare's return was confirmed, they had all expected to encounter him, and had spent much time preparing for the occasion. Although they were surprised by Nightmare's presence in the Lost Cathedral, they would still have fought them at their peak, as they had anticipated that the confrontation would eventually occur. After many hours of discussing and planning what to do when they finally encountered their adversary, they had assured themselves that his evil aura would undoubtedly separate the swords, allowing them to wield Soul Calibur. Even if Nightmare was the most powerful being whom had ever walked the earth, they felt as though not all was lost, as long as they would be able to wield Soul Calibur against him.

And then, when the moment they had been dreading finally arrived, Soul Calibur turned against them.

They had spent the past year of their lives on a dangerous campaign for the well-being of this sword – and now it rejected them in their hour of need? They felt betrayed, deceived, forsaken...but the sword did not reject them, it was merely incompatible with their tainted bodies. They had only themselves to blame, and there was no time to forge a backup plan, no time to mourn their mistakes. They were at the mercy of Nightmare, moments away from having their souls ripped out to spend an eternity in the abyss of Soul Edge...until the least useful member of their coalition rescued them.

She was a quiet, despondent orphan who had no place among their ranks, no right to accompany them. They had adopted her merely because they feared she had the potential to become another Siegfried, or another Ivy. Obsessed with revenge, her soul coated in Soul Edge's influence, her motivation determined at a young and impressionable age, she was likely to walk the same road that Siegfried and his companions walked, and none of them wished to see the girl share their fate. They took her with them because there was still time to help her, to save her - they never imagined that she would be the one saving them. She was weak, frail, barely capable of carrying her own belongings without collapsing. She contributed nothing to their group, and was simply another mouth to feed, another person to obtain accommodations for. She might have been abandoned, had she not treated her guardians with respect. She was quiet and kept herself out of everyone's way, making her easy to travel with. Truly, they sometimes forgot that she was even among them. The waifish girl was the last thing on their mind as they cowered before Nightmare, and none of them expected her to dash to their rescue.

There wasn't any time to ponder whether or not Amy would be able to handle Soul Calibur's power, or if the sword would expel the energy that Amy could not control, or if the result would be a shower of holy energy similar to the Evil Seed. No one could understand why Soul Calibur had coated Amy's body in crystals, but there wasn't any time to ponder that matter, either. Amy's sudden godlike speed and strength was just as confounding, but the others chose to welcome this unexpected blessing rather than question it. They had no choice but to put their questions aside and concentrate on survival.

Indeed, the threat of Nightmare trumped many of their other concerns that day. They did not question Amy's fusion with Soul Calibur, nor did they decide to shun Tira, nor could they afford to reject Zasalamel's assistance. Siegfried, Ivy, Sophitia and Taki were forced to play second-fiddle throughout the entire fight, relegated to mere onlookers as a little girl, then a traitor, then their worst foe did all of their work for them. It was humbling, almost shameful to be so helpless now that they had reached the stage of their final battle. However, they were willing to sacrifice some of their honor in order to stay alive.

Amy's death struck them all harder than they thought it would; they had little esteem for her, but as her final act, she had saved their lives. They still had unanswered questions about the bond she had abruptly forged with Soul Calibur, but no one was in the mood to stand around and speculate. It didn't seem like the time for discussion – it didn't seem like the time for anything. With Zasalamel on their left, Tira on their right, Amy's corpse before them, and a wounded Nightmare leaving a bloody trail in the sky as he fled, none of them knew what to think or what to feel or what to say.

Everything had all changed so fast; within a half-hour's time, everything had been reversed from how it was before they stepped foot in the Cathedral. Despite their history with Zasalamel, they were willing to call a truce with the man, especially considering that they might not have been strong enough to resist Zasalamel even if they had wished to. Zasalamel had been an enigma from the beginning, and no one truly knew what to do about him. He had explained his intentions and aligned himself with them, and despite their hatred for him, they could not afford to make another enemy. Although they despised the moor more than any living being beside Soul Edge, his value as an ally was undeniable. They would tolerate him, even if they would never forgive him or forget what he had done to them in the past.

Ever since Tira took her leave, Siegfried had not gone a single day without wishing for her return. He deeply regretted driving her away from him, and longed for a chance to correct his mistakes. However, the other women were far less eager to see Tira return; the slave's over-enthusiasm for her master was awkward and made the other women feel uncomfortable, so they never truly missed her. Furthermore, Tira had abandoned them without a word, entered herself into the service of their greatest enemy, and had attempted to kidnap Sophitia's children to make them slaves of Soul Edge. No one but Siegfried had even considered forgiving her...but after Tira turned on her dark master and rendered him defenseless, it was easier to call a truce. She expressed regret for her decisions, and obviously did not bear any resentment toward her former allies. There was no reason to extract revenge on her, especially when her actions were the request of Nightmare, not her own decisions. There was nothing to gain from shunning her, and they could only benefit from another ally. Tira was unstable, a wildcard – but it was difficult to suspect that she would serve Nightmare again, after assisting them in their assault against him.

To Ivy and Taki, Tira was a curiosity at best and annoying at worst. They could tolerate her, if only to keep a close eye on her; however, to Sophitia, Tira was a dreadful predator that had attempted to deliver her children to a fate worse than death. Tira's return and the news that her children would die from the destruction of Soul Edge was far more motivation than necessary to cause Sophitia to leave. Her departure was very sudden, but then again, so was the return of Tira and the news of her children's fates. The others were somewhat relieved that Sophitia would not be accompanying them any further, for none of them truly knew how to deal with the fact that they were going to indirectly kill the woman's children.

In the end, their adventure in the Lost Cathedral had transpired more or less according to their expectations. The Soul Embrace had been split, not all of them had escaped alive, and they had been forced to confront all of the elements of their journey that had not yet been resolved. The end results placed Soul Calibur in Siegfried's hands, transformed Zasalamel from their enemy to an uneasy ally, and returned an old friend into their ranks. It had been a hellish mess, but they had emerged from the ordeal with slightly more to smile about than to fret about. As soon as they got some rest, they could embark on the final step of their journey – tracking down Nightmare and destroying both him and Soul Edge.

Their greatest concern was how to face Nightmare in his new, godlike form, but they did not have many ways to improve their chances against him. One possibility was assembling the allies that they had encountered throughout their journey; Kilik, Xianghua, and Maxi were three names that came to mind when pondering who could assist them, but their whereabouts were unknown and it was possible that Nightmare could gain a great advantage over them if they wasted too much time before confronting him. They had to face him as soon as possible...but not before resting their weary bodies.

Despite the fact that many settlements are located close to shorelines, Siegfried and the others found no signs that they were anywhere near civilization. They were all exhausted and fatigued beyond their limits, and quickly chose to erect their tents and rest. None of them were in any state to discuss the recent events; they fell asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

Once they had all awoken, they faced their first opportunity to discuss all that had happened to them. They chose not to chat about the 'contamination' that had resulted from bedding Siegfried; it was embarrassing enough to think about, much less speak of, and the issue had already been resolved.

"Something bothers me." Ivy began.. "Why did Amy's appearance change when she grasped Soul Calibur? I can think of no reason for this."

"I'm more concerned with something that did _not_ happen," Siegfried said. "Her soul was young, and still immature; how did she manage to wield such a weapon as Soul Calibur? The blade should have expelled the energy that she could not handle, much like Soul Edge expelled most of its evil energy when I grasped it."

"I believe that these two facts are related." Taki said. "The sword knew that Amy would not be able to control it. It became one with her in order to remove all boundaries and limitations."

"That seems underhanded – like something Soul Edge would do." Tira said. She was ashamed, humbled, and embarrassed by her betrayals, but did not want to let herself become a wallflower. "I thought that Soul Calibur was a good sword. Why would it do something like that?"

"Perhaps the blade wasn't acting in its own interest, but sought to protect those around it." Siegfried suggested.

"Why don't we just ask it?" Ivy inquired. "The sword was speaking earlier. It has a will, like Soul Edge."

Siegfried looked toward the makeshift sheath he had constructed for Soul Calibur. It was merely a cloth wrap, but it seemed appropriate to give Soul Calibur a better home than the ragged satchel that he had carried the Embrace inside of. He unwrapped Calibur and held it aloft, experiencing a soothing, almost enlightening feeling.

"Soul Calibur," Siegfried began, "Do you hear me?"

There were a few moments of silence as Siegfried and the others waited. No voice came from the sword.

"The sword was speaking through Amy, whom had merged with the sword." Taki said. "Perhaps that's why it gained the ability to speak."

"I believe that it would be best for me to merge with this sword." Siegfried said. "We need all the help we can get in order to defeat Nightmare."

"Don't be too hasty," Ivy warned. "You don't know what merging entails. You might not be able to turn back. You might not be in control of yourself. Do you really want to become a host body all over again?"

"My mistake was giving Soul Edge control of my body, which enabled the blade to end countless lives." Siegfried said. "It is fitting that I must give up my body yet again, in order to stop the very force I empowered. It is a fair price to pay in order to atone for my sins. If I must give up control of my body to stop Nightmare, I would gladly make that sacrifice."

"Master..." Tira said, quietly, tentatively. "You wouldn't be yourself anymore, and you'd be all covered in crystals?"

"If I desire to redeem myself, I must accept such a fate." Siegfried said.

Zasalamel's words were still fresh in their minds...

_"It is a weapon capable of untold destruction. If corrupted, it could become another Soul Edge. As long as it exists, men will seek it for selfish purposes. Although the destruction of Soul Edge is a higher priority, the holy blade must be crushed, as well."_

"Siegfried," Taki began, "If you merge with Soul Calibur, become powerful enough to destroy Nightmare, and slay him, what will you do then?"

"I will become the target of all who lust for power," Siegfried said. "They will seek me to claim Soul Calibur for themselves, but this blade should not fall into anyone's hands. I may be forced to kill, and men may kill each other while struggling to reach me. It would be better if...I was destroyed after merging with the blade."

Tira's body language quite eloquently conveyed her shock, while the others remained still in silent understanding.

"That would be quite regretful," Ivy said with rare sincerity. "It is not a fate that you deserve. However, any sacrifice is acceptable in order to free the world of these weapons. Evil or holy, they will only stir greed in the hearts of men, and cause death whether directly or indirectly."

"But Siegfried doesn't have to merge with Soul Calibur, right?" Tira asked nervously. "If we can find another way to increase our chances, then it won't be necessary!"

"I'm afraid it seems to be our best option at this point." Siegfried said regretfully. "We mustn't waste too much time looking for alternatives, or Nightmare will gain power in the meantime. We need a quick solution, and this appears to be the best measure we can take."

"But are we sure it can be done?" Taki asked. "It's still not clear how or why Amy was able to merge with Soul Calibur."

Siegfried examined the sword that he clutched, as though he might find some mechanism on its surface that would begin the process of fusing with the blade. "The Soul blades have been shown to be aware of their environments. It must be aware of my desire to fuse, and yet it does not. Although it has chosen me as its wielder, it is refusing to obey my desires. It must reject my desire to fuse. Perhaps the sword believes that there is a better way."

"Huh?" Tira asked. "It asked you to be its Master, but it won't do what you want? What a disobedient sword..."

"Our lives were in danger when the sword merged with Amy." Ivy said. "Perhaps the situation is not yet dire enough to drive the sword into action."

"Facing Nightmare will put our lives at risk." Taki said. "If merging with this blade is the only way to defeat Nightmare, it will unavoidably happen, sooner or later."

"It would appear that the only order of business remaining is to track down Nightmare and slay him before it is too late." Siegfried said. He turned his gaze skyward, and scoured the clouds until he spotted the scar that Nightmare had left in the atmosphere. It was fading, but still clearly visible. He produced a map from his supplies, and determined the heading of the scar in the sky. "Southeast," Siegfried said, "As Zasalamel said. Ostrheinsburg is the greatest possibility."

"It's a good thing that Germany is just across the North Sea from where we are," Ivy said. "I'll be able to guide us across the land swiftly - this is my home country, after all. After we've arrived at a port and secured passage across the sea, all that's left is a trip to Ostrheinsburg."

"Let's not concentrate solely on rushing." Taki said. "We mustn't forget that we're running low on supplies, and that our weapons have fallen into disrepair."

Ivy's hand found her Snake Sword, and she pressed the mechanism that split the sword's blade into several smaller blades. The sword simply became crooked. The British woman spat a curse, and fiddled with her weapon. "It's broken...if we are to set a waypoint, we must return to my mansion. There are materials there we could use to repair our weapons and armor, and infuse them with holy power."

"It sounds like a worthy detour." Siegfried said with a nod. "It would appear that we've laid down our course, and all that's left is to set out. We should acquire steeds as soon as possible. Before we pack up and depart, are there any lingering issues we must discuss?"

Taki tilted her head away, but subtly gestured toward Tira with her eyes.

"I don't think we ever officially decided exactly what to do about Tira." Ivy said bluntly, rendering Taki's tactful gesture meaningless.

The group fell silent as their eyes fell upon Tira, who looked away. "...I don't blame you," she began. "I'd be suspicious of me, too. I don't have to travel with you if it would make you uneasy. I wish that I could make up for what I did...I especially wanted that red-headed girl to forgive me, but...I lost my chance to do that. I wanted Sophitia to forgive me, too, but if destroying Soul Edge will kill her children, I doubt she's going to be grateful that I'm helping you. However, there's still time for me to redeem myself by helping you defeat Nightmare! All would be forgiven, right?" She felt the eyes of Taki and Ivy on her, uncertain and unsure. She chuckled sheepishly. "Hey! If you think about it one way...it's kind of a good thing that I joined Nightmare for a while! If I had never gained his trust, I never could have gotten that surprise hit on him and...heh...nevermind..." her voice trailed off as she realized that she probably wasn't helping.

"I don't sense any ill intentions from you." Taki said. "It appears that you regret your decisions and wouldn't make the same mistakes again. I believe that we can trust you."

"You're a wildcard." Ivy said disapprovingly. "You're too unpredictable. Back then, and now too."

"No!" Tira said. "Since we parted ways...I've discovered who I am. I've learned what my life needs. I've realized that I was mistaken about many important things. Most importantly...I now know not to run away if something causes me distress. I had to leave you to discover myself, and I'm sorry that I fell in with the enemy while I was lost."

"Hmph," Ivy snorted. "Well, I'd say that you seem quite stable now. It would take months for you to break down again, and it will only take a fraction of that time to reach Nightmare. So, we're safe for now."

"...I trust Tira as well," Siegfried said flatly. He knew there was no point in elaborating; no matter what reasoning he presented for forgiving Tira and trusting her, his companions would still believe that he only wanted her back because of his feelings for her...which did in fact still exist.

"S-so I can stay?" Tira asked sheepishly.

Siegfried nodded.

Tira prepared to release her glee verbally, but decided to maintain her non-childish conduct. "I am grateful to be given a second chance," she said with a deep bow.

Tira had mentioned coming to several important personal revelations, but Taki and Ivy did not consider this information to be relevant to their journey. They did not bother to ask her to elaborate, although Siegfried was silently curious. The four of them packed their belongings and set out to find a settlement and procure mounts.

While Tira had been in Nightmare's service, Siegfried had been constantly tortured by the knowledge that his mortal enemy now commanded the love of his life to do as he pleased. Her defection lifted a cloak of envy and regret from Siegfried, and by returning to his side she had granted one of his biggest wishes. He was relieved beyond words to have the object of his affection returned to him so swiftly and with such ease. He had been ready to suspend his stern, stoic attitude for once, to beg and plead her for a second chance, but she had been all too eager to return to his side without any resistance at all. It was a dream come true, a dream he hadn't been able to fully appreciate due to the severity of the other events occurring at the same time. Now that their lives were safe and their exhaustion had been cured by sleep, the urge to express his appreciation to Tira grew stronger, but he did not know what to say or when to say it.

However, neither of them truly needed to speak to one another. They had grown to understand each other intimately, and knew what feelings the other was experiencing. They knew that they both regretted their previous errors, and they knew that they were both more than welcome in the other's arms. They didn't need to share affection, knowing that the time would come soon enough when they could be alone once more. They walked close to one another and let their hands brush together, but kept their profile low, needing little else than the company of the other.

Ivy had a secret to keep, as well. She did not the others to know; she did not want them to see her weak or vulnerable. She did not want them to know that she was dying, or that there was little that could be done about it. The battle between Soul Edge and Soul Calibur had formed a maelstrom of evil and holy energy that damaged the flesh and soul of those entangled with it; the others had escaped with minimal injuries, but the blood that flowed in Ivy's veins made her especially susceptible to the storm of opposing energies. She felt her soul being ripped apart during the battle, but chose to retain her pride rather than flee. The battle had eroded her soul, chipped away at it, until all that remained was the bare minimum for her survival. She was barely clinging to consciousness, but kept herself alive from sheer force of willpower. She wouldn't let herself die, not this close to victory. Ivy was glad that her Snake Sword had fallen into disrepair, because this gave her an excuse to return to Valentine Mansion; she had only one chance to survive, and the means to achieve it required more alchemic materials than she carried with her.

While on her journey, she had considered her own inability to wield Soul Calibur, and had been researching the means to fabricate a being that could wield the spirit sword; a homunculus, an Astaroth-like being that would wield the sword for her and obey her will. To power such a being, she would need a soul...but, unwilling to stain herself with another sin, she refused to sacrifice a human to obtain their soul. Instead, Ivy had researched the means for creating an artificial soul to animate the homunculus. Because Soul Calibur now rested in the hands of Siegfried, it would appear that her plans for a homunculus were now moot; however, perhaps an artificial soul was the only thing that could save her now. Her research was incomplete, but she knew that she had just enough time to reach Valentine Mansion and forge one artificial soul before her own soul was no longer able to sustain her. Death would come to her either sooner or later, but she would do everything in her power to ensure that it was later.

The moment she realized that she was dying, she vowed to herself not to tell the others; she would not allow herself to become a burden or a concern. If she was going to die, she did not want to spend her final days weighing down her companions. The only thing more important to her than her life was her pride, and she was just stubborn enough to sacrifice the former for the latter. It was difficult for her to maintain a façade of healthiness when it was a struggle just to stay conscious, but she had the willpower to do so as long as she was still alive.

Taki would normally have been perceptive enough to notice the secrets that Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy were attempting to keep, but she, too, was distracted. She had been surprised to see that Soul Edge and Soul Calibur had not destroyed one another when engaged in combat; instead, the two only seemed to grow more powerful than ever before. Together, they sparked a cataclysm that they had barely escaped alive. Even now, the two swords were linked by fate, destined to clash once again.

Taki was beginning to believe that attempting to destroy one sword with the other was futile; she was beginning to suspect that they would have to be obliterated one at a time, lest they grow even stronger as the result of clashing. The others had witnessed the same battle that she had, but none of them seemed to be considering the possibility that getting into another conflict would only make things worse. They were all convinced that Soul Edge could be destroyed with Soul Calibur, failing to realize that neither had done the other any damage during their recent battle.

Taki was unsure of whether or not to present her theory to the others; if they disagreed with one another, then their solutions to this conflict directly opposed one another. She did not want her companions to become her enemies, but she did not want them to continue on their journey, either. The only solution she could draw up was stealing Soul Calibur and hiding it to prevent it from clashing with Soul Edge yet again...but, at the same time, she could not present an alternative method for destroying the blade.

Taki was also concerned about Siegfried. He wished to merge with the sword...but after fusing with it, would he be able to cling to his human reason and somehow control the immense power that would reside within him? She could not leave that answer to chance.

She knew what decisions she had to make, but she was not eager to make those choices. She did not want to turn on her companions, steal the object they had all strived to obtain, or cause any harm to the man she respected the most. She chose to bide her time, to wait for the right opportunity to raise her concerns to the others – but truly, she was just attempting to stave off a confrontation for as long as possible. She knew it was unwise to do so...had her time with Siegfried made her soft? She would not have hesitated to steal the sword in her previous years...had she lost her youthful brashness, or lost her common sense? She didn't know what to believe.

---

_What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to know what is right? Why is this happening to me?_

Sophitia had spent almost a year traveling with Siegfried in pursuit of the cursed sword, but in all the terrifying things she'd seen, she'd never known such a horror as seeing her own two children abducted by her enemy, to suffer the cruelest fate. She had only embarked on this journey to protect her children and ensure that they would live in a world free of Soul Edge – but now, she learned that she was endangering the very children that she wished to protect.

What were her options? She could assist the others in destroying the sword, but she would doom her own children. Not only would she hate herself, but Rothion might hate her as well – he loved his children more than anything else. It could be the end of her family, everything she had worked for in the past seven years.

She could claim the sword for herself and protect it with her life so that her children might live – but then, she might have to spend the rest of her years defending the sword and protecting it from those who would try to take it...possibly even Siegfried and the rest of her old friends.

She could claim the sword and keep it hidden, or cast it into the depths of some dark place it could never be retrieved from...possibly the ocean, as they had once deigned to do. But Siegfried had described a vision in which Zasalamel retrieved the sword from the bottom of the sea, and Zasalamel himself had announced his intention to destroy both swords to keep the future safe from their influence. If the moor was capable of traveling to any location in that floating sphere of his, then Sophitia would never be able to hide the sword where he could not retrieve it – or defend the sword from Zasalamel, a being far more powerful than herself.

None of her options were acceptable. She did not wish to destroy the sword, nor claim it for herself, nor was it possible to discard it without the threat of it being retrieved. She loved her children more than anything else, and fought only for their sake...she refused to give up on them or allow them to die. However, in order to keep her children alive, Soul Edge would have to remain in this world.

Soul Edge was a threat to all living beings; there was no telling how many tens of thousands of lives it had taken, and that number would only continue to climb as long as it existed. If Sophitia chose to protect the sword, she was also choosing to end countless lives that the sword would take directly or indirectly. At the cost of two lives, the world could be free of Soul Edge forever; but Sophitia was choosing to trade countless lives for the sake of two children. She knew that she was being selfish, but it was impossible for a mother to sacrifice her own children for any cause.

An endless stream of tears rolled down Sophitia's cheeks as she lamented her predicament. To protect Soul Edge was a sin, but she did not wish her children to perish. She was confined to a dilemma which had no positive outcome. She felt as though night had fallen and day would never return.

Betray her comrades and forsake the world, or lose her family? Life was cruel to force this decision upon her...

...But gradually, she accepted what she had to do.

---

For the first time in a year, Siegfried stood upon the doorstep of the Valentine Mansion. Treading this ground brought back memories of his first visit here – memories of Tira and how childishly naive she had been, how devoted and loyal she was. The Tira that had accompanied him now seemed different – older, wiser, more mature – but he still caught a giddy smile on her face when he said her name, and the look in her eyes still expressed a desire to please him. In the time it had taken to reach this mansion he had spoken little with her, and still had not yet learned what she had 'discovered' while absent. He did not wish to learn yet – he did not want anything to concern him aside from his mission. Once this was all over with – if they were still alive – then he could concentrate on Tira once more. Until then, he would be grateful for their reunion, but not allow her to distract him from a much more serious goal.

"Ivy," Siegfried began, "This mansion is unoccupied, correct? I presume you locked the door as we left. Do you still have the key?"

It had been a year since Ivy had any reason to be concerned with her mansion, but every time she took inventory of the items in her possession, she saw the key, one of the only constants that had remained with her from the start. She withdrew it from her belongings and used it to unlock the door, pushing it open and stepping into her abode for the first time in what felt like forever. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, as well as Siegfried and Tira, but she spent no time idling, heading straight for her laboratory without hesitation. Her movements were slow yet efficient, as though she was exerting the minimum amount of energy for every action.

Her lack of communication was uncharacteristic, but had become common in the past few days. She had scarcely spoken a word, and communicated almost entirely with nods and shakes of her head. The others grew increasingly concerned for her, but knew better than to inquire about her well-being; they joked that she would never admit to ill health even if she was on the brink of death.

Unfortunately, they learned exactly how accurate their jests were when they discovered Ivy collapsed atop a worktable in her laboratory. Her pulse was slow, her breaths were shallow, and her skin was ice cold. They rushed to her aid, quickly delivering her to a bed and keeping her warm. There was little they could do for her, although Taki set up a protective barrier. Several times on their journey they had each fallen drastically ill at one point, but Ivy did not display any symptoms of sickness, only a complete loss of energy and warmth.

"What is happening to her?" Siegfried asked, the faintest hint of panic rising in his voice. "What is the cause of this?"

"I noticed her behaving strangely immediately after the two blades dueled," Taki said. "She has been acting lethargic and antisocial. I figured it was simply her attitude, but now I can see I should have been far more concerned for her..."

"Let's not think of what we should have done, but what we can do." Siegfried instructed. "This mansion has a library. We should look for a medical book, and – "

"Mandrake," a voice weakly murmured.

"What?" Siegfried asked, looking between Taki and Tira before settling his eyes on Ivy.

"Mandrake," she repeated.

"What is she saying?" Taki asked.

"She may be delirious," Siegfried said. "What illnesses are known to affect cognition? There's a library here. Perhaps we can find something – "

"Mandrake," Ivy said again.

"I think she's giving us an instruction." Tira said.

Siegfried and Taki shared a glance before regarding Tira with a doubtful look.

"I think I would know." Tira said. "It sounds like an order to me."

"Mandrake," Ivy repeated.

"I'm going to check her lab," Tira announced, and swiftly left the room. Siegfried and Taki doubted that Tira's guess was correct; the girl had been a servant for many years, and would likely perceive many things as commands. Taki began to scour the medical notes they had amassed throughout their journey, while Siegfried went searching for a medical book among Ivy's library. Tira returned a few minutes later, carrying a jar that contained a brown plant of a peculiar shape, which she brought before the semi-conscious Ivy. "The label says Mandrake. Is this what you wanted?"

"Milk," Ivy said.

"I'm going to look for wherever she kept her food," Tira announced almost casually, as she departed from the room. Taki and Siegfried exchanged glances nervously, still skeptical of Tira's hunch, until she returned with a large jug of milk. "It spoiled long ago. The stench is horrible. Will this do?"

"Honey," Ivy stated.

Taki and Siegfried reluctantly put aside the notes and books they were scanning, and joined Tira in the scavenger hunt. They retrieved all of the items that fell from Ivy's lips – a chicken egg, lavender seeds, earthworms, and fresh blood, among other bizarre requests. Her last request, the most peculiar demand of all, was fresh semen. The situation was hardly romantic, and both Siegfried and Tira regretted that their long-awaited reunion had to take place under such stressful circumstances, but for the sake of saving Ivy's life, or simply fulfilling her delirious dying request, Tira stimulated Siegfried until he had produced the ingredient that Ivy required.

"Mix under moonlight," Ivy instructed once the final component had been procured. The three rushed outside to combine and mix the items they had obtained with a mortar and pestle, presuming that it was proper alchemic procedure.

Once they had mixed the items into one foul-smelling substance, they returned to Ivy's side, where she gave them the simple instruction of "feed me."

"Ivy, most of these ingredients are spoiled or rotten. This concoction seems very unhealthy. Are you sure – "

"Feed me."

Siegfried, Taki, and Tira exchanged glances tentatively, neither of them wishing to poison Ivy but all of them wishing to have faith in her prowess as an alchemist. With no other option, and with Ivy's firm insistence that she was going to consume the drink, Siegfried carefully poured the brew into her mouth.

Ivy began to swallow the brew, and from the first gulp her countenance improved visibly. After taking several swigs, she seemed to have the strength to sit up in bed, then place her hands on the mortar, then take it from Siegfried and feed herself. With an increasingly perturbed expression on her face, she downed the entire mortar, then demanded, "WATER!"

The others looked around the room, but there was none to be found. Ivy attempted to climb out of bed, fell from it, then scrambled out of the room. The others breathed a heavy sigh of relief to see Ivy so lively and active. They'd succeeded in saving her, even if they knew not what she had been afflicted by or what they had fed her.

They reunited with Ivy in her washroom, where she filled her mouth with water, churned it, then spat it out only to repeat the process until the taste and the stench of the mysterious concoction was gone from her mouth. Only when she was finished regurgitating water and cleaning her tongue with a towel did the others make their inquiries.

"Ivy, what happened to you?" Siegfried asked.

"I lost most of my soul when the two blades were dueling," she replied. "Although my body is in fine shape, without life force, no body can persist. What you mixed together were items that contain a large amount of life matter and spirit matter. Mixed together, it was all just enough to grant me a sort of fake, artificial soul that will last me another few weeks before I die."

"Ivy!" Siegfried gasped in shock.

"Oh, don't worry, it's enough time for us to reach Soul Edge." Ivy said casually. "Besides, after Soul Edge is gone, I'll be all that's left of it. I'll have to go sometime, sooner or later. I'm just determined to take care of Soul Edge before the end."

The others fell silent, awed by Ivy's commitment; so dedicated was she to the cause of eradicating Soul Edge that she accepted her own death as one of the steps that must be taken.

"...You worried us." Siegfried said sternly. "Even if you're ready to go, we weren't ready to lose you. You should have told us."

"I knew I'd have enough time to make it here, and I knew that you and Taki would be smart enough to fetch me whatever ingredients I asked for." Ivy replied.

"It was neither Taki nor I who determined what you needed of us," Siegfried said. "It was Tira who realized that you were asking us to gather materials. If not for her, we would have attempted to treat what we thought was an illness."

Ivy was taken aback by the revelation that she owed her life to Tira. She looked at the girl in shock, then looked away as she hid her shame. "Well, then. I suppose I owe her my gratitude, don't I?" She said with clearly audible insincerity.

"You're welcome!" A bubbly Tira replied, oblivious.

That night was spent recovering from their panicked scavenger hunt, while the following day was spent repairing their ruined weapons and armor. Ivy had acquired basic blacksmithing skills in order to forge her Snake Sword and gauntlet, and had outfitted her mansion with a small smithy for her metalworking needs. She only had the rudimentary knowledge required to forge what she had crafted so far, but she was able to call upon what she knew in order to temper her companion's blades and restore them to functionality.

Ivy's Snake Sword was broken, and Taki's ninjatō blades were cracked and chipped, while Tira's ringblade still remained in two halves after being wrought apart by Nightmare. All of them were in need of better armor, for the protective wear they had had worn thus far was almost reduced to shreds by now. Siegfried's Requiem was melted down to provide the steel to repair the other weapons; he had no more use for the blade, and even less emotional attachment to a weapon that had been used to take lives, further staining him with sin.

All of the women had acquired a basic degree of tailoring skill while on their journey, taught to them by Sophitia; it was enough to allow them to mend their garments, and alter them where they chose. Once her time in the smithy was complete, Ivy chose to fashion herself a garment using materials from her old suit. It was considerably smaller since she had less fabric to work with, but somehow the deficiency of material covering her body was fitting, if distracting – and perhaps that was the point. Taki merely mended the rips in her bodysuit and reinforced the guards on her arms and legs, and Tira opted for an entirely new ensemble that was not held together with stitches. She had adopted the practice of coloring her hair to throw off any pursuers looking for her, but as she had not been infamous in quite some time, she chose to allow her hair to remain its natural color, forsake her body paint, and put her hair into twin pigtails to remove it from her eyes, now that it had grown long.

Ivy discovered while repairing her snake sword that the weapon was less responsive to her; her previous soul had been bound to it, and now that most of that soul was gone, the sword carried less of a connection to her. However, she could still fight with it. The matter that composed her new soul was pure, even though it was mixed with her own, cursed soul. She wondered if it would be possible for her to wield the spirit sword...but knew that the question was irrelevant, as the blade had chosen its owner.

A feeling of finality hung over Ivy – a sense of conclusiveness and inevitability. She felt as though she could sense her own death approaching, as though she could almost see the very moment she was destined the leave the world. The materials used to create her new spiritual matter were imperfect and flawed; this soul would not last her long, but she would make the most of what time it could grant her.

---

Time had passed all too quickly. Perhaps because Siegfried had his companions were attempting to savor the last few days of their journey – possibly the last few days of their lives – their time seemed to have gone by in a flash. It seemed as though it was only yesterday that they had enjoyed the warm, comfortable beds and amenities of Ivy's mansion, but now they were relegated to the rigid, bumpy mattresses of this stuffy and musky German inn. They had become accustomed to such conditions – although Ivy never stopped complaining – but they certainly wished that the last rest stop of their journey could have been a little more bearable. This small German town was the last settlement they would encounter before reaching Ostrheinsburg, and so it was their final chance for a brief respite. However, they had too much weighing on their minds for any of them to enjoy their final holiday, knowing that it would be their last, and knowing that the success or failure of their journey was so close at hand. They had already discussed their battle plans ad nauseam during the long carriage and boat trips that had dominated their journey here; there was no more need to speak of Nightmare and Soul Edge, but at the same time, no was in the mood to discuss anything else.

Siegfried insisted that he be the only one to face Nightmare, considering that he was the only one who would stand a chance against the monster thanks to Soul Calibur's protection. Ivy and Taki refused to be passive observers, insisting that their respective talents could boost Siegfried's chances of success. Taki's purification arts and Ivy's alchemic concoctions could possibly hinder Nightmare or empower Siegfried, but Siegfried maintained his belief that it was pointless for anyone else to risk their life to stop a demon he had unleashed. Tira saw Nightmare as a threat to her life and the lives of her companions, but was unsure how she could contribute to his defeat, and sided with Siegfried.

Taki had given voice to her concerns, and was relieved to know that the others had made the same observations that she had about the two blades – that neither seemed to harm one another, and that every clash seemed to make the two pulse with even more energy. They all agreed that Nightmare would be their target, and that Soul Edge would only be dealt with after he was defeated. Of course, Nightmare would block and parry with Soul Edge during battle, guaranteeing that the two blades would clash...unless the sword could be removed from his hands. Disarming Nightmare would be easier said than done, but there were scarcely any other suggestions that would prevent the two blades from striking one another. They drew up many plans, attempting to find which scheme would have the highest chance of success, but were unable to think of anything that was likely to work. They could only hope that they would be able to find some presently unforeseen opportunity once arriving at Ostrheinsburg – otherwise, the three women would simply launch their strongest attacks at Nightmare and divert his attention from Siegfried so that he could strike.

Although this was their last chance to have fun before they put their lives at risk, there was nothing of interest in this small German town, nor was anyone in the mood to go out and find some excitement. They spent their time meditating and ruminating over their situation until they heard the familiar yet disconcerting sound of clinking armor outside of their inn.

A trip to the window revealed that the streets below their room were now occupied by dozens of armored soldiers, none of them baring their weapons but all of them fanning outward as though in pursuit of some quarry.

"I am a stranger to this country, but I have seen the national flag," Taki said, "and those soldiers do not carry it."

Siegfried craned his neck to make out the emblem that the soldiers bore. "Wolfkrone," he said.

"Is this an invasion?" Tira asked. "Why is a neighboring country's army in this town?"

"This world is too small for coincidences," Siegfried said grimly. "This is related to Nightmare."

"Or us," Ivy said. "Even if our last sins occurred years ago, every one of us has made several enemies, and we've had to deal with surprise retributions in the past."

"Not now, of all times..." Siegfried growled. "Accost me for my crimes tomorrow, just not today...!...I've never made any enemies in Wolfkrone, and I don't know why they would be after us...I don't have a clue what's going on out there, but we would be better off uninvolved in any business that involves the military."

The sounds of armor-clad boots were heard on the thin wooden floorboards of the inn.

"It looks like we're going to be dragged into their business whether we like it or not," Ivy said.

"Blast!" Siegfried spat. "We kept our profile as low as possible. How did anyone learn of our connection to the blades?"

"It was those mercenaries we encountered," Taki said.

Days earlier, the four of them had crossed paths with a group of mercenaries en route to a mission. The mercenaries saw how well-armed the four were, and asked if they were looking for a larger group to assimilate with. Siegfried and the others declined, and inquired whether the mercenaries had been hired to defeat Nightmare. The mercenaries replied that their mission was to rid Ostrheinsburg of the monster, to which Siegfried replied that the men were traveling to their deaths. The mercenaries refused to listen to Siegfried until he presented them with the following reasoning: Siegfried had fought Nightmare and lost, so if their strongest warrior could not defeat Siegfried, the mercenaries would never survive. The leader of the mercenaries emerged to challenge Siegfried, and although he was skilled, Siegfried struck the man down several times with Soul Calibur – while the blade was still in its sheath. It was only after Siegfried bested the mercenaries' leader in combat that he convinced them not to throw their lives away in Ostrheinsburg...but the bitter mercenary leader accused Siegfried of wanting all the reward money for slaying Nightmare to himself. Siegfried had no patience to convince the man that he was wrong, and so he made his departure.

"That man must have spread word of me," Siegfried said. "A skilled warrior out to destroy Nightmare. With that reputation, anyone who has business concerning Nightmare might wish to speak to me."

"Siegfried, Taki and I can travel across rooftops," Tira reminded. "Shall we escape and cause a diversion so that you can draw the rest of the soldiers away? We could all reconvene at – "

"None of that will be necessary," Siegfried interrupted. "If they want to speak with us, we will simply do so."

"Siegfried, you're jeopardizing us." Ivy said irksomely. "Maybe our visitors aren't on their way up here to have a calm, rational discussion."

There was a knock on the door.

"We shall see," Siegfried replied. He opened the door and found himself facing three Wolfkrone soldiers that seemed pleased to have found him.

"Tall, blonde hair, a scar over one eye – I think this is our boy." The foremost soldier said. "Sire, we have come before you at the request of Princess Hildegard von Krone, the interim sovereign of Wolfkrone. She has requested – but not demanded – an audience with you."

"...What does she wish to discuss?" Siegfried asked.

" Princess von Krone seeks the destruction of Nightmare, who is a threat to our nation, your nation, and all others. She has heard that you may share a commitment to the same cause, and believes that our two forces would benefit from an alliance."

"Two forces? What composes Princess von Krone's force?"

"The full might of the Wolfkrone army, sire. Several thousand men are camped outside of this town, and tomorrow we disembark for Ostrheinsburg."

"Several thousand..." Siegfried echoed. "That's more than enough souls to restore him to full power. He would be a god..."

"Sire?" The soldier asked nervously. "Do you speak of us as sacrifices?"

"Unwitting sacrifices." Siegfried said bluntly. "You're all marching to your deaths – many armies have attempted to slay Nightmare, and each one was slaughtered, leaving no man standing. He will eat your soul and wash it down with your blood."

"Ha! I guess if you're trying so badly to scare us away, you must REALLY want that bounty all for yourself!" The soldier laughed. "So, does that mean you won't be joining us?"

"No, I will not join you – but I will grant your princess the audience she requests. Perhaps I can convince her not to allow so many of her subjects to die needlessly."

"Very well then – but don't think you can change her mind by besting her in combat like that mercenary leader!" The soldier said with another laugh.

---

The Wolfkrone army had set up a temporary base outside of the German town almost immediately after Siegfried and the others had arrived and cooped themselves up inside of their inn room. They were shocked to see thousands of tents where there was only grassland just one night ago, but more alarming was the fact that so many soldiers were on their way to Nightmare so soon. Had they arrived one day later, these men would already be dead, and Nightmare nourished enough to reach full strength. Indeed, their final chance to stop him was at hand.

Siegfried and his four companions were led to the heart of the Wolfkrone camp, where the princess' tent was located.

"Apologies," began one of the men standing guard outside of the princess' tent, "no weapons will be allowed past this point. Please relinquish all of your blades."

The four exchanged glances nervously. The women could stand to surrender their weapons, but Siegfried carried the one blade they had risked their lives to obtain.

Siegfried turned to his companions. "I'm afraid that the only way to guarantee its safety is to leave it with you. Will the three of you remain here?"

"Fine – but make it quick." Ivy grumbled. "I don't want to be bored out here, and we need a head start on these men."

Siegfried left Soul Calibur with the three women, and then entered the princess' tent. He saw no princess, only several men in military outfits standing before a table that held a map of Ostrheinsburg. They were moving pieces across the map, planning their strategy, until one of them looked up and noticed Siegfried. The rest turned to face him, and only then did Siegfried realize that the princess was among them – she was not dressed in a frilly gown, nor did she bare any symbol of sovereignty; she was clothed identically to her soldiers, a man to Siegfried's eyes until he noticed her hips and bust. She had long red hair, smooth youthful skin, plump lips, and a beauty mark below her lip. She reminded Siegfried of Amy, or rather what the young girl might have become into if she had lived. The woman approached Siegfried, extending one hand towards him, and he knelt to take her hand and kiss it, as he knew was customary with the upper-class.

"You can't shake my hand from down there," she said with a smile.

Embarrassed, Siegfried rose to his feet, and began to remove one gauntlet to shake her hand. She laughed at the gesture, but there was no condescension in her voice. "Formalities only waste time. Let's not bother – and you don't have to worry about ending every sentence with 'your highness', either."

Siegfried had never met a female ruler – or a woman of the nobility who discarded customs – or a leader who did not demand him to perpetually show respect. Many of his female companions had been boyish, even masculine – but to meet a princess that was more casual than the average peasant was still quite a shock.

"My name is Siegfried Schauffen, and I am the man you sent for," he said.

"I am Princess Hildegard von Krone of Wolfkrone, and I ask you to call me Hilde in order to expedite this exchange; I don't think I need to explain why. I trust that the emissary who contacted you on my behalf told you the reason for this summons?"

Siegfried nodded. "You're leading this army to kill Nightmare, and you know that I have the same goal."

"That is correct," Hilde confirmed. "Is it true that you really convinced a band of mercenaries to abandon their mission using your combat skill?"

"I wished that I could have convinced them using only my words," Siegfried replied, "But I also believed that proving their incapability would convince them not to throw their lives away."

"So you're not just some brute," Hilde observed. "It's refreshing to find a man that would rather solve a problem with words than blades."

"And that is why I've agreed to have this meeting," Siegfried said. "I wish to convince you not to deliver these men to their deaths."

Hilde smirked, and chuckled. "I'm afraid that it would reflect quite poorly on me as a leader if I were to take a few thousand men from their homes for no other reason than to go jogging across the countryside. I left my home country with this army behind me for a good reason, and that is to make this world a safer place. It is inevitable that some soldiers die – all of my men know this. But - "

"...I hope you will forgive me for interrupting you – 'in order to expedite this exchange' – but more of your soldiers will die than just some of them." Siegfried began. "Nightmare is a demon unlike any that has ever existed before. He is the result of thousands of years of spilled blood and stolen souls, a monster that had been in the making far before you or I were ever born. He has eaten many armies already and still hungers for more. His thirst for blood will never be quenched; his hunger for souls will never be satiated. Nightmare is a monster in the purest sense of the word, because absolutely nothing about him is human. His flesh is steel, so his blood cannot be spilled. He does not feel pity, so he is not capable of mercy. He does not feel remorse, so he is not capable of regret. He does not feel fear, so there is no possible way to intimidate him. He regards human beings as nothing more than food, so there is no way to bargain with him or reason with him. He is nothing more than a monster that desires to kill as many men as possible, and there is no army in the world that can stop him."

"If an army cannot stop him, then what can?" Hilde asked. "You describe him as though he is unstoppable, as though we should bow our heads and accept our fates as his nourishment. Are you telling me that we are doomed? Are you telling me that my country will be trampled beneath this beast, and that there is nothing I can do?"

"Nightmare has but one weakness - a weapon forged specifically to be his undoing. I trust that you are aware of the legend of Soul Edge?"

"Some call it the Sword of Kings, while others refer to it as the Sword of Damnation." Hilde said. "There are too many conflicting beliefs about this blade for me to draw a conclusion about it – I'm not even sure if it is real."

"Soul Edge is real, and Nightmare wields it. Nightmare is the will of Soul Edge, the desires of the sword given tangible form. If you are unaware of Soul Edge, you may wish to take a seat – it will take me quite some time to explain exactly what you have decided to pit your army against."

Hilde complied with Siegfried's suggestion, taking a seat and regarding Siegfried with an expectant grin. Soon, that grin faded from her face as Siegfried relayed to her the long and bloody history of Soul Edge, the story that he had pieced together by reviewing records of the blade found across countries. He began his story with Zasalamel's account of King Algol, and traveled across history in a verbal journey that spanned from the Ling Sheng-Su Temple to Spain.

"Cervantes de Leon, the pirate that terrorized the seas for so long – so it was Soul Edge that gave him his powers," Hilde murmured. "But then – who was the next one to claim the blade? You have spoken much of Soul Edge, yet you have said little of Nightmare. When did he first appear?"

Siegfried hesitated. He had told his story to few, and was never sure what reaction to expect. The princess' generals were still in the room, all of them hunched over the table where they had laid their plans, but all of them now focusing their attention in Siegfried, engrossed in his story.

"...the origin of Nightmare – it is not information that I often divulge. The one whom wrought this catastrophe upon us...it is difficult to reveal his identity. You must understand...if the world was aware of who is to blame for so many deaths, for so many orphaned children, for so many widowed wives...the world would hate him. The world would hunt him."

"And yet you wish to protect him?" Hilde demanded. "You wish to protect the one who unleashed this monster?"

"Princess Hilde, I ask that we are given...privacy." Siegfried said cautiously. Hilde hesitated, eyeing Siegfried suspiciously. She raised her right hand, keeping her eyes fixed on Siegfried, and her generals and war advisors quickly left the room and closed the entrance to the tent. Hilde sat in silence, watching Siegfried for any sign of hostility before speaking. "...go on." She said.

"I – " Suddenly, Siegfried's armored seemed to weigh tons. He felt hot, stuffy, although the tent was well-aired and summer had long passed. He felt perspiration forming on his face, but had no way to wipe it off. He turned his head until he found a chair, and then he pulled it towards him and clumsily sat down on it. He stared at the ground blankly for a few moments, his eyes empty. Then, he turned his gaze to Hilde, but she did not feel as though his eyes were on her – it seemed as though he was looking at something far, far away, a great distance behind her.

"Have you heard of Sir Frederick?" With these words, Siegfried began his confession. He told Hilde about his father, his birth, his upbringing, his delinquency, the Schwarzwind, his plan to ambush any soldiers that deserted the army and fled from the war, and finally, he told her about the severed head that stared back at him as he held it aloft in the moonlight, one lifetime ago. He described to her as best he could what happened to him – or what he did to himself – and his resolve to obtain Soul Edge and take vengeance upon his father's killer.

Finally, he spoke the words " – following a rumor, I traveled to Spain – " and Hilde shot out of her seat. She stared down at him, then turned around and walked away, facing one of the tent's walls. Then, she turned around and walked back to him.

"And?" She demanded, and at that moment there was not a single force in the world that could have pried her attention away from Siegfried.

"I found the blade. It spoke to me. It promised me what I desired. It told me it would grant me everything I desired. I...I believed its lies. I took it."

"And then what?" Hilde asked, her eyes focusing on Siegfried so intently that they almost burned holes into him.

"My soul was immature, and it could not control Soul Edge's power. The power that I could not control was expelled from me...it rained over the entire world."

Hilde's mouth fell upon as her fears were confirmed. She felt herself losing her balance and stumbled backwards, knocking over a chair. Shaking and trembling with a mixture of shock, horror, and rage, one hand flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still on Siegfried, her gaze causing him physical pain.

"You?" She said breathlessly. "You're the one? You're the one who released this blight upon the world? You're the one who unleashed the Evil Seed? Do you know how many people went insane because of you? Do you know how many families were destroyed? Are you aware that kingdoms were brought to their knees because of you? Do you have any idea – ANY idea – how many – how many – "

Hilde jerked away from Siegfried, took a few steps away, then turned around and approached him, then turned away again. She paced back and forth, looking away from Siegfried, and then looking back. Her eyes darted around wildly, as though looking for something solid to grab onto, but finding nothing. She sighed loudly and ran her hands through her hair, then finally stopped her frantic movement and settled her eyes on Siegfried again.

"You do know what you did – correct?" She asked with the same impatient tone that an adult takes with a disobedient child.

"There hasn't been a single day in the past seven years that I haven't dealt with a consequence of grasping the sword that day." Siegfried said. "It ruined my life just as much as it ruined anyone else's."

"_YOU THINK_ – " Hilde shrieked, before flinching and drawing back, as though the sound of her own voice had hurt her. "You think," she repeated, more calmly, but with barely-contained rage bubbling just underneath her voice, "that you've suffered as much as anyone else you've hurt? Have you spent the past seven years in a cold prison tower? Have you lost all memory of your loved ones and who you used to be? Have you lost your humanity and had your mind burned to ashes?"

"Something like that." Siegfried said. "I don't believe my punishment was quite so severe, but it was not dissimilar."

"Your punishment?" Hilde asked. "And what was this punishment?"

"I was the next host body for Soul Edge," Siegfried said. "For four years, I was trapped in my own body, unable to speak or move my limbs of my own accord. I could do nothing but watch – watch as my body was twisted and mutated, contorted into something unnatural and evil. I was used to slaughter entire cities, to take thousands of innocent lives. I was forced to watch my own hands rip men apart in front of their families, and I was completely powerless to stop it. I saw the suffering and the pain and the death that my mistake had given birth to, I saw it all firsthand, knowing it was my fault. I had to watch visions of death and murder nonstop for three years straight, I had to watch my body twist into something monstrous, and the entire time I had to listen to that damned sword jeering at me and mocking me, thanking me for enabling it."

Siegfried hung his head down, burring his face in his hands. "There is no need to chastise me or remind me of the suffering I've caused. I know what I've done, because I was there for every death. Every. Single. Death. I saw every man I killed, because it was all done with my own body. I couldn't look away or close my eyes, because my body was no longer my own. I saw it all from Nightmare's point of view – because I was Nightmare himself. I am aware of every single sin that Nightmare has wrought upon the world, and I know that the effects of the Evil Seed still burn the world today. I know, I know, I know! I know it all. I _know_ already! Please...you do not have to remind me what I have done. I see it all on the back of my eyelids every time I blink."

Hilde had ceased to shake with anger. The eyes that had once burned with hatred now regarded Siegfried with pity. She didn't see a selfish murderer in front of her, but instead a sad, broken wreck of a man. She wanted to hate him, wanted to blame him for everything, wanted to label him as the culprit that she had been looking for ever since the day her life changed, but for some reason she couldn't. He was the biggest, tallest, most handsome and muscular man she had ever seen, but he was on the verge of weeping, with his life in shambles and his mind perpetually wracked with guilt as sins from his past pricked him even today. There was not a soul in the world whom had caused more suffering than him, and he knew it, for he had been forced to watch every second of it all. She couldn't bring herself to berate him, not now, not even as images of her father flashed through her mind. It wasn't because he appeared to be so weak and sad, but because what he had been through was equal to or greater than any suffering that he had caused.

"...stop sniveling." Hilde said sternly. "What happened next? Why are you and Nightmare now separate entities?"

Siegfried told her the rest of his story – his alliance with Ivy, Astaroth, and Lizardman, then the defeat of Nightmare at the hands of Xianghua, only for him to sleep in Siegfried's subconscious and later awake, and then finally being freed of the abomination's control by a dying Raphael Sorel. He told her of taking up the Soul Embrace and summarized his journey by naming the countries he traveled to and the major events he experienced. He explained that Nightmare's return was a complete mystery to him until it was clarified only a short time ago by Zasalamel, the one who had resurrected the will of the sword. He told Hilde of his adventure – choosing only the experiences which were relevant to the story, omitting any details about his lustful habits – and finally reached present day.

"Then, this 'Soul Calibur', the only weapon that stands a chance against Nightmare – where is it?" Hilde inquired.

"It is outside the tent, with my companions." Siegfried said. "Now that I am reminded of them, I wonder how long I have kept them waiting..."

"May I see it?" Hilde inquired. "I wish to behold this blade for myself."

"Very well." Siegfried emerged from the tent to witness Ivy engaged in combat with one of Hilde's soldiers. She wrapped her Snake Sword around his ankle and tripped him, then withdrew her sword to the applause of a cheering audience. It appeared that Siegfried's companions were not the only ones who had become bored, and Hilde's army had looked to Siegfried's companions for a challenge and entertainment.

Siegfried weaved through the crowd to approach Tira and Taki, still vigilantly guarding Soul Calibur. "I'm sorry that it took so long." He said. "I require the sword now."

After retrieving the blade, Siegfried returned to Hilde's tent. He unsheathed the blade, displaying its incomparable glory. Hilde marveled at it – the unorthodox shape, the crystals suspended in the air around the orb at its center, the holy, sacred aura that the blade emitted. "This is almost impossible to believe," she said, "yet here it is. I can see it and touch it for myself – it's even more than I imagined it to be from your accounts. If there was ever a legendary weapon, this would be it. And this blade...this blade will slay Nightmare?"

"That is what we hope." Siegfried said.

"...Hope?" Hilde asked. "You _hope_? Nightmare, the beast that drinks armies and eats cities, you _hope_ that you have the means to defeat him?"

"This is our only chance," Siegfried explained, "the only hope that we possess. There is nothing else like this in the world – perhaps the treasures of the Ling Sheng-Su temple, such as the Dvapara Yuga and the Kali Yuga – that could benefit us, but we don't have the time to retrieve such items."

"Why not?" Hilde asked.

"Because it's only matter of time before an army marches on Ostrheinsburg and restores Nightmare's power, that's why!" Siegfried said, exasperated.

Hilde sunk back down into her chair, now fully aware of why Siegfried risked his life in combat against the mercenary leader and met with her on this day. "We would all die – all of us. And so would anyone else who attacks him...our only hope is this weapon here, this Soul Calibur?"

"Yes," Siegfried said with vexation.

"Then...what shall my army do?" Hilde asked. "Shall we form a barrier around Ostrheinsburg to prevent any other armies from entering?"

Siegfried felt a slight degree of power and authority – the leader of a country was asking him what commands to give her army. His answer would dictate the actions of thousands of men – but having such control made him uncomfortable; having so much of a say only made him feel weighed down by the consequences of his decisions.

"Don't do that – Nightmare would emerge from Ostrheinsburg and consume your army. Don't let your men near him at all. Instead..." Siegfried faltered.

"Instead?" Hilde asked.

"My companions and I will travel into Ostrheinsburg today. We will attempt to slay Nightmare with Soul Calibur. If we fail, the task will be left in your hands. There are several things you must do. First, you must seek a man named Kilik. He is the only one armed with a weapon that possess properties that can stand up to Nightmare's power. You should also set your nation upon the task of creating a weapon more holy than Soul Calibur; the most powerful purification arts are found in the East, so send your agents there to gather materials and knowledge. Last, the moor I spoke of, Zasalamel, will likely come to your aid now that he is committed to the task of protecting the world from these two blades. As I have told you, he is an immortal with powers beyond that any person has ever possessed – he will likely provide you with the most assistance, and you must grant him whatever concessions he demands in order to see that countermeasures against Nightmare are completed as soon as possible. He may go after Nightmare himself and perish, in which case – "

"...So..." Hilde said weakly, "I am not to lead my army against Nightmare?"

"To do so would be suicide," Siegfried recapitulated.

"...I must admit that I'm disappointed," Hilde said. "I led so many men here for a purpose, and now I learn that I am to instead send them on a manhunt and a scavenger hunt, all while waiting for commands from a moor I do not know..."

"If you had continued to lead these men to Ostrheinsburg, they all would have met their deaths," Siegfried said. "Do not be disappointed; be relieved. Hilde...for the past several years of my life I have campaigned against this sword, and I have no successor to inherit the task, should I die. You are now one of the few individuals in the world who knows the entire story behind the two blades, and certainly the only individual who knows what measures need to be taken. Hilde, if I fail at this task, you are the only person capable of taking up my mantle. Will you accept this?"

Hilde stared blankly ahead for a few moments before smirking, snorting, then closing her eyes and chuckling. She laughed to herself – or perhaps at herself – in a sad and remorseful way. "Perhaps it is my fate," she said, "To inherit the duties of others. I cannot deny these tasks that you have laid before me; they are now my responsibility, because I am the only one who can perform. Were I to refuse, I would be dooming those I could have saved. You have passed your burden to me now, and I will bear it as well as I can."

"Oh, the burden is not passed yet," Siegfried said. "I still have to die first."

The two of them laughed, and it was grim, dark-sounding laughter, but the two of them shared such a pitiable moment because they both had one another to share it with.

"Very well, Schauffen. I am glad that we met – you saved me from a terrible mistake, and gave me the knowledge I will need to combat this threat. I only wish there was more I could do for you in return. ...Wait...perhaps I could..."

"...Yes?" Siegfried asked.

Hilde chuckled again. "You know, it will be very difficult for me, considering how you have stung me and my kingdom – but should you succeed in slaying Nightmare and ending the threat of Soul Edge, I will grant you what you desire the most."

"What I desire the most?" Siegfried echoed. But you have just named my only two desires, to slay Nightmare and – "

"Shhhh, Siegfried, do not let it trouble you for now; it will come to pass when it does." Hilde assured. "My army will remain here for one day; if you do not return, I will follow the directions you have given me, and wait for word from this Zasalamel. I did not bargain for these new obligations when I set out upon this task...but I understand the necessity of these deeds. Someone must accept the responsibility, and I shall be the one."

"Then, I shall depart." Siegfried said. "It is a shame that circumstances forced our time together to be so brief...but I believe that in that brief time I have found someone worthy of adopting my responsibility. Farewell, Princess Hildegard von Krone – your country is blessed with a fine ruler."

"And your companions are gifted with an excellent leader." Hilde responded.

Siegfried bowed, sheathed Soul Calibur, and exited the tent, leaving Hilde alone. She sighed heavily as her new burden weighed upon her, and then took up a quill to record all that Siegfried had told her. She did not want to forget his words; she did not want his story to go untold; she did not want his journey lost to history.

---

He began to stir.

His existence was blurred, shadowy, dim. He felt sensations that were indistinct, hazy, unclear. His mind was sluggish, and it took him days to process his first thought. The world around him was a jumbled mess that he would never be able to put together, a chaotic storm that he would never be able to calm.

But over time, that storm calmed itself. The world became less muddled, and began to make sense. His mind began to recover, and his thoughts came to him more swiftly. He could now perceive the world around him clearly – and perceive himself, as well.

His memories began to return.

Who he was.

What he was.

What he had done.

It all came back, piece by piece, until he was whole again. Whole, but confined. He was removed from the world, and to return to it would cost him a considerable amount of energy. To sustain himself would cost even more. Recently, there had been an immense surge of energy all around him – that explosion of energy was what awoke him...and it would power him as well. Some of the energy had flowed into him, and now that he was aware again, he could use this energy, shape it for whatever purpose he desired. He was still groggy – it would take awhile to build himself a physical body and a home to reside in...but he was not short on time.

He felt his thirst for power growing as he remembered that the world was his for the taking.


	60. Path of Destiny

_There is nowhere else for this to go. It has to end here._

_Nightmare has been reunited with Soul Edge. He has returned every remaining fragment of Soul Edge to himself. He has made himself whole once more. He has reached his full potential. More than one god has expressed fear of - or desire for - Nightmare's power._

_It was only due to Soul Calibur and Zasalamel's assistance that we were able to match Nightmare's strength. We were able to harm him so critically that he was forced to retreat here to Ostrheinsburg to lick his wounds._

_We dealt him such severe damage that the only way for him to recover his power is to drink the souls of thousands of men, and at this very moment, an army ignorantly marches toward him. If they reach him, every last man will perish, and Nightmare will obtain the strength necessary to destroy anyone who resists him._

_We have convinced the commander of that army to wait one day before launching their vain attack against Nightmare. We will assault Nightmare, and if we do not succeed, it will mean our deaths. This is our final opportunity to stop Nightmare and put an end to the threat of Soul Edge._

_Everything we have done for the past year has led up to this moment. After today, we will either be dead, or forever free from the menace that we have spent the last few years fighting. For better or worse, our journey cannot continue beyond today._

At the very least, Siegfried and his companions were relieved to know that, after their next encounter, their journey would finally end. At several points throughout the past year, they were convinced that the conclusion to their journey was imminent - but that sense of finality had never been as powerful as it was now.

Their march toward Ostrheinsburg took place in silence. For the past year, they lived and died together, loved and hated together; there was an understanding between them that went beyond the need for words.

Many times, they had been thrust into danger with a slim chance of survival, and on these occasions, they had accepted that death may be inevitable. In anticipation of their own untimely demise, each member of Siegfried's party had already said their farewells.

Siegfried had vowed not to return to his mother until he had undone the evils that had been unleashed by the Evil Seed. Tira had never known her family, and after the Bird of Passage had crumbled, she lost the closest thing to a 'family' she had ever had. Ivy's adoptive parents perished long ago and her biological father had been slain by her own hand. Taki was an orphan whose clan was her only family, and now they were all gone.

None of them had any family that would weep for them upon their deaths. None of them had anything to lose except for their lives; and because they had all dedicated their lives to the singular purpose of destroying Soul Edge, a life lost in service to that cause was the only fitting death. They could not allow themselves to fear death, for fear would only hinder them. Each one of them rejected the idea of dying in combat, but each one of them accepted the fact that they were mortal.

_How ironic that it ends where it all began one year ago,_ Siegfried mused. _No, it is not ironic; it is appropriate._

As Siegfried and his three female companions walked through the stone archway that served as the only entrance to Ostrheinsburg, they briefly paused to take in their surroundings. All of Ostrheinsburg was stone - the arched bridges, the cobblestone roads, the deserted buildings, the walls that surrounded the city - everything in sight was the dull color of eroded grey stone. Even the sky above was hidden by a blanket of grey clouds that were reflected in the moat that surrounded the city, causing the water to share the same hue as its surroundings. There was scarcely any color to be seen, and the city was just as unsaturated as it was lifeless.

Although the four of them had all been to Ostrheinsburg before, they let Siegfried lead, as they always did; he knew the layout of the city best. Their trek through the city was uneventful; Nightmare had no minions under his dominion at this time, and he could not spare the energy to create any. Not even his Watchers could be seen in the air above.

Ostrheinsburg castle was located at the center of the city - easy to spot, but slightly difficult to access. The drawbridge was raised, and so a raft would be needed to cross the moat and reach the castle. Once they reached the raft - which had been left untouched in the exact spot it was left in after Siegfried and Tira rode it over one year ago - they boarded the wooden vessel and embarked for the castle's port.

The raft trip was tense, yet just as uneventful as the rest of their trek had been. At every step of their journey, they had faced all manner of foes, from common thieves to supernatural beasts. Now, when they were closest to victory, they had expected more resistance than ever before.

Nightmare had shown himself to be capable of forming concentrated spheres of energy that he could propel through the air. If he was to produce one of these energy attacks and launch it at Siegfried's raft, surely the flimsy wooden structure would shatter, and they would topple into the water below, dragged to the depths of the moat by their heavy armor and weapons. If, and only if they were able to shed their armor quickly enough to avoid drowning, they would then be defenseless targets floating in the middle of the water, easy targets for Nightmare.

And yet, no such attack came.

The raft reached the castle's port without incident, and its passengers hastily disembarked. Ostrheinsburg castle was tall, dark, and threatening, but they had all been here once before, and the castle's familiarity lessened its intimidation.

With ever-growing tension, Siegfried and his companions entered Ostrheinsburg castle from its port entrance and began to ascend through the castle. They could sense Nightmare's presence now - he was making no effort to conceal his energy signature. He was stationary, perhaps resting.

Ostrheinsburg castle was no maze. There were no traps to avoid and no puzzles to solve as Siegfried and the others ascended through the structure. They reached the main hall with as much ease as the rest of their trek. Their memory of the castle told them that the throne room where previous confrontations had taken place was adjacent to the room they were currently in. They were all aware that the only thing between them and their final confrontation was a single doorway.

Siegfried and his companions had not survived so many perilous situations because of luck. Whenever they were not in danger, they took the opportunity to discuss their plans for surviving during future threats. Each one of them had memorized and rehearsed various strategies and tactics designed to make the best of their unique abilities - Siegfried's brute force, Tira's acrobatics, the long reach of Ivy's snake sword, the supernatural magic spells used by Taki, and so on. When their coalition was larger, they had factored their other companions' unique traits into their strategies, as well. Every time a new companion joined them, or an old friend left their company, they were forced to re-design their battle plans. Tira's long absence from their group and Sophitia's departing had caused them to re-design their strategies, but they had all memorized the tactics specifically designed to counter Nightmare - or so they hoped.

Even now, a few steps away from the final confrontation, there were still no words for them to share among each other. Their battle plan was solid and there was no need to recount it before the fight. These last moments were reserved for prayer, at best.

Siegfried took a deep breath. "This is it. Let's go." His statement was unceremonious, but there was no one present who believed that ceremony would improve their situation.

Siegfried approached the double doors to the throne room of Ostrheinsburg Castle. He stood beside the doors, and then held Soul Calibur out in front of them. He used the holy sword to push open one of the doors, keeping his muscles tense, expecting an attack to come barreling through the door with enough force to knock his weapon free from his hands, or carry him through the air with it. No such attack occurred. With his back to the wall, he quickly slipped from his hiding position to the other side of the door, spinning as he moved in order to look through the doorway before putting his back to the wall on the other side.

During this maneuver, he briefly looked through the doorway, beholding the castle's throne room, and the figure draped over the throne itself. He only caught a brief glimpse of the figure, but its identity was unmistakable.

Nightmare did not appear to be hostile. In fact, if anything, he was serene. Tranquil. He sat upon the throne, draped lazily over it, Soul Edge in hand, but not at the ready. Siegfried cautiously peeked through the door to confirm what he was seeing. Indeed, Nightmare was slumped over in the least aggressive of all postures.

Still wary, Siegfried held Soul Calibur forward in a battle stance, and began to slowly walk into the throne room. His companions followed him, spreading out around the room so as to not be taken down by a single attack. They observed Nightmare - and apparently, he observed them in return. Two red orbs were affixed in the eye sockets of his helmet, which shined with as much evil as they did intelligence, and lazily rolled from one warrior to the next as they spread out around the room. Nightmare slowly heaved with the movements of breath as though he required air, but for all his inaction, the others would have considered him asleep if not for his moving eyes.

"Let's stop wasting time," Ivy said curtly. "We should attack now."

"Patience," rumbled a deep, raspy voice from within Nightmare's helmet. "He comes."

"...'He'?" Siegfried inquired. "Who is he?"

"A force greater than any of you," Nightmare growled. "A force greater than I."

Chills ran down the body of every warrior present. "Greater than you?" Siegfried echoed, as shocked by the notion as he was shocked by Nightmare admitting such a thing.

"The Hero King," Nightmare rasped. "He has awoken. Nothing will stop his return. He bides his power now. His arrival is not far."

"The Hero King...?" Siegfried repeated. He recalled that legend, a story connected to the creation of Soul Calibur itself. He had recited the tale to Tira the morning after their first tryst, but it had never again become relevant. "The only man to ever tame you?"

"_**HE DID NOT TAME ME**_," Nightmare roared, the air itself distorting as his booming voice shook the foundation of the castle itself. Under the force of Nightmare's voice, Siegfried and his companions were pushed backwards, skidding across the ground even with their feet planted firmly on the floor. In his anger, Nightmare rose to his feet and stabbed Soul Edge down into the stone floor, piercing it. The others raised their weapons and prepared for combat, but Nightmare made no assault. "He did not tame me," Nightmare repeated. "He simply resisted."

"...The legend says that he died for Soul Calibur to be forged," Siegfried said after composing himself.

"He was not killed," Nightmare corrected. "He was sealed. Our previous confrontation awoke him. He comes."

"But where is he?" Siegfried asked. "Where is he coming from?"

Nightmare plucked Soul Edge from the ground and leveled it at Siegfried. He pointed the tip of the grotesque blade directly at Soul Calibur. "He has slept in that abomination you hold for centuries. His return is nigh."

"And there is nothing you can do about it?" Siegfried asked, puzzled over Nightmare's apparent inaction in the face of an impending threat.

"I am stronger than I was when he first grasped my hilt," Nightmare said. "This time, I shall conquer him." He took a step toward Siegfried, causing everyone else present to step back. "I have been patient. I have waited for you to bring him to me. Now, I will hasten his arrival. With every clash of our weapons, more of his power will return."

"Does this mean we shouldn't fight him?" Tira asked.

"No," Ivy responded. "He said that the return of this...'Hero King' is unavoidable. There is no use in postponing it."

"If he was sealed away once before, he can be put to rest again," Taki said. "We will deal with Nightmare first, and then we will stop anyone else who means our world harm."

Nightmare laughed - an unpleasant, frightening, ugly sound. "Your impudence never ceases to amuse me."

Nightmare rushed at Siegfried - he did not run, but instead propelled his body through the air, floating off the ground. He raised Soul Edge and swung it at Siegfried, who reacted in time to swing back. Siegfried aimed to turn Soul Edge aside and then thrust it at Nightmare, but he was not strong enough to throw Nightmare's swing off course. When the two blades clashed, there was a great sound and a visible wave of energy that appeared as multicolored ripples in the air. The wave of energy spread outward, and Tira, Ivy, and Taki felt a great pressure press upon their bodies when the wave struck them. Determined not to leave the battle to Siegfried, each of women made herself as useful as she could. Taki released the spiritual energy she had been storing since their arrival in Ostrheinsburg directly at Nightmare. An orb, colored sky blue and orbited by wisps of white light, appeared at Nightmare's center and expanded outward, causing him to growl and shudder with pain. The moment that Nightmare became distracted, Siegfried swung Soul Calibur and slashed Nightmare across the chest, drawing a scar across his body.

With a roar, Nightmare curled his body and then unfurled, drawing forth an orb of dark energy that fought against Taki's attack and then caused it to disintegrate. The force of this energy knocked Siegfried away, but before Nightmare could lunge for him, he felt a powerful tug on Soul Edge. Whipping his head to the side, he saw that Ivy had lashed out her snake sword and grasped Soul Edge. With a guttural sound of irritation, Nightmare abruptly jerked Soul Edge to the side, sending Ivy flying through the air toward him. Nightmare held out his clawed arm to catch her, but his giant mutated appendage was slammed down to the ground by Soul Calibur. Ivy, seeing the flaw in her plan of attack, withdrew the snake sword as Nightmare returned his attention to Siegfried and slashed at him in retaliation. Siegfried blocked the attack with Soul Calibur, and the two of them struggled to overpower the other until Tira dropped from the ceiling onto Nightmare's back, looping her ringblade around his neck and pulling back as though she was pulling the reins of a horse.

"That will not work twice!" Nightmare roared, and reached around with his clawed arm to grasp Tira's torso. He ripped her off of his back, and then began to squeeze. She screamed in agony until Siegfried brought Soul Calibur down on Nightmare's claw for a second time. Nightmare dropped Tira, who scrambled away, and then waited for Siegfried's next attack. When Siegfried swung Soul Calibur at Nightmare again, this time Nightmare caught the blade in his claw. The holy energy of Soul Calibur burned Nightmare's flesh, causing it to sizzle and pop - and yet, now that it was within the monster's grasp, Siegfried could not force the sword to budge.

Nightmare turned his attention away from Siegfried. "_**STOP**_," he instructed in a voice that once again shook the castle. Involuntarily, Ivy ceased to twirl her snake sword, and it fell limply to her side. "_**DO NOT INTERFERE!**_" He exclaimed, turning his gaze to Taki, breaking her concentration and ruining her latest incantation. "I must summon the Hero King. I must make him my servant. You will not interfere with his return, or I will drink your blood to prepare for his arrival."

Nightmare let go of Soul Calibur, and immediately continued his assault. He swung Soul Edge rapidly at Siegfried, a flurry of attacks that appeared as a blur to the onlookers. Siegfried himself was only able to block the blows thanks to enhanced perception that had been granted to him by Soul Calibur - the weapon guided his hands and assisted him in blocking Nightmare's attacks, but under the force of Nightmare's assault, Siegfried was capable of doing nothing more than using Soul Calibur as a shield.

With each clash of the two weapons, there was a cracking sound as though reality itself was buckling under the energy of the Soul blades, and the signature waves and ripples of energy that chipped the stone walls of the castle and caused Tira, Ivy, and Taki to seek shelter to avoid injury. Hiding behind pillars and stone sculptures that decorated the throne room, Siegfried's companions were downgraded to an audience before the might of the two Soul weapons.

The one-sided battle continued, and with each clash, Soul Calibur and Soul Edge continued to unleash waves of energy. The energy was not holy, nor was it dark; Ivy herself could not classify it as kinetic, nor thermal, nor magnetic. Taki could not classify the energy as belonging to any of the Japanese elements; it escaped categorization as wind, water, fire, or earth. Indeed, this nameless form of energy could only be born under the current circumstances - it was from the void in-between holy and dark, with the properties of both and weaknesses of none.

This almighty energy was the only force that could have broken the seal that bound the Hero King's spirit inside of Soul Calibur, and it was the only force that could seep into the blade, empowering the being that slept within it. With every clash of the two swords, more almighty energy was forged and absorbed by the two weapons. Every time that the two blades collided, the Hero King was filled with the energy that was produced.

As he gained the ability to manifest his will outside of the two swords, his presence could be physically felt.

"Yes," Nightmare hissed. "Return. Burst free from your prison so that I may imprison you myself!"

The return of the Hero King was gradual. As he awoke, his existence was blurred, shadowy, dim. He felt sensations that were indistinct, hazy, unclear. His mind was sluggish. The world around him was a jumbled mess that he would never be able to put together, a chaotic storm that he would never be able to calm.

But with each clash of the two blades, that storm calmed itself. The world became less muddled, and began to make sense. His mind began to recover, and his thoughts came to him more swiftly. He could now perceive the world around him clearly – and perceive himself, as well.

His memories began to return. Who he was. What he was. What he had done. It all came back, piece by piece, until he was whole again. Whole, but confined. He was removed from the world, and to return to it would cost him a considerable amount of energy - but that energy was quickly returning to him. To sustain himself would cost even more energy - but it was energy he could afford to spend. There were immense surges of energy all around him, pouring into him like fluid into a container. With this much energy, it would be easy to manifest a physical form. But first, before that, he would need a home.

He had taken much pride in his tower. It was a man-made marvel, the only structure of its size in the world. He ordered the tower to be deconstructed upon his demise, because he saw no purpose in monuments after death. His subjects had torn down his tower after sealing him away, but if he was about to walk the Earth once again, and he would need an abode.

The sound was unlike anything else that had ever occurred on Earth, and so it is nearly indescribable. It was a sound heard across the continent, a sound that nearly split the ears of those who were near its origin. It was both high-pitched and low-pitched, a deep boom and a sharp ringing. It was like the beating of a hundred drums, the crack of a thousand thunderbolts, and the chiming of a million bells.

Shortly after the sound, the earth began to shake. The quaking was so powerful that Siegfried's teeth clattered in his mouth and his eyes vibrated in their sockets. Dust fell from the rafters of the castle, filling the air with a golden hue. The familiar white flash of lightning was seen through the windows of the throne room, behind the familiar cracking and booming that always followed.

Nightmare calmly stepped away from Siegfried, disregarding him completely to observe the occurrences that were happening outside the castle. His back was turned to Siegfried and the others, yet none of them could bring themselves to strike him - anything that would distract Nightmare so thoroughly was as worthy of their attention as it was his.

Nightmare approached a large window that provided a clear view of Ostrheinsburg's east side, and the land beyond it. The dull, grey, lifeless sky had turned a foreboding black as storm clouds filled the air, pockmarked by white flashes of lightning.

The sound came again, as deafening and shrill as it was the first time - a noise that pierced the mind itself. It came from the east, where Siegfried and the others could now see a giant tornado forming. Vivid splashes of red abruptly appeared around the tornado - even from that distance, it was apparent that the earth was splitting and spewing forth fire. Lava gushed out of giant cracks in the ground as the environment around the tornado became warped and distorted, transforming from a field of green to a landscape of jagged brown rocks jutting out of a sea of lava.

As the earth changed shape around the tornado, it began to slowly ascend into the sky. Where it had touched the ground, there was now a pillar - a tower. It was enormous in size, with a circumference larger than any other structure Siegfried had ever beheld. As the tornado rose higher into the sky, it exposed more and more of the tower, which rose even higher than the storm around it. It was impossible to gauge the height of a structure when its pinnacle was far above the clouds; surely, it scraped the ceiling of the sky itself.

"I am coming for you, Hero King," Nightmare rumbled.

Nightmare bent his arms and legs in an apparent exertion of effort. He began to shine with darkness, to glow black. Dark energy could be seen forming at his feet, where it formed a crater beneath his azure boots. Nightmare released the energy, and with a deafening boom, it propelled him through the glass windows of the throne room. He flew through the air with such speed that within moments he was nothing more than a speck in the distance that left a red energy trail in its path, as though he had caused the sky to bleed. He was headed for the tower.

Siegfried and the others were speechless. Mere minutes ago, they were on the verge of completing the journey that had cursed their lives for the past year - and now, their arch-nemesis had disregarded them for a new foe that could sunder the earth itself, bringing hell to the surface with power that none of them understood.

"DAMN IT ALL!" Ivy screamed, throwing her Snake Sword to the ground in fury. "WILL IT NEVER END?"

"To come here expecting the end, only to find another obstacle," Taki spat.

"I believed the legend of the Hero King, but I never expected him to return," Siegfried mused silently. "However, there can be no more surprises. There are no more legendary figures connected to Soul Edge. There are no more forces that can interrupt our quest."

"But can we even win?" Tira asked, gesturing at the tower. "Whoever brought THAT thing into this world has the power of a god! If he could tame Nightmare himself, do we stand a chance against him?"

"Little is known of the Hero King except that he conquered the known world and ruled benevolently," Siegfried said. "The circumstances of his revival are...disturbing, to say the least, but we do not know if he is our enemy. If Nightmare seeks to defeat him - and possibly use him as a host body - then he is the enemy of our enemy, which potentially makes him our ally."

"That's a big if," Ivy muttered in her usual cynical tone.

"I'm just as disappointed as the rest of you that something has come between us and victory yet again," Siegfried said. "It is discouraging that, no matter how hard we try, something unexpected and unforeseen can push us back. However, I am certain that there is nothing else that could possibly get in our way after this. We have slain or otherwise put a stop to all other individuals involved with Soul Edge. There is no one else that could be plucked from the history of the two blades to stand in our way. If we travel to the structure that has risen from the ground, our final confrontation will be at hand."

"And how many times have I heard you tell us that we're at the end of our journey?" Ivy said with a roll of her eyes. "We will climb the tower, defeat Nightmare and the Hero King, and with his dying breath he will summon an ancient dark god, and after we have dealt with that, something else will come up!"

"If you think that we are capable of slaying ancient dark gods, then you have much confidence in our abilities," Siegfried retorted with a wry smile. "I think we should be just fine."

"Y-yeah, let's be optimistic," Tira stuttered in a meek voice that suggested everything _but_ optimism. "Maybe the Hero King will finish off Nightmare for us!"

"...at least our next destination is clear," Taki said, gazing at the tower in the distance. "It is not too far. We can reach it in half a day's time."

"We will be too fatigued to fight by then," Siegfried said. "We should travel halfway, rest one final time, and then proceed."

"You managed to convince the pretty princess to wait one day, but what happens when that day is up?" Ivy asked. "This changes things. Will she attack the tower now, or wait a day and throw her soldiers' lives away as we rest?"

"I only spent a few minutes with her," Siegfried began dryly, "but I got the distinct impression that she is not foolish enough to send her army charging at a giant tower surrounded by a lake of lava."

"So, we travel halfway, we camp, and then we attack it?" Tira asked, always anxious to confirm that she was onboard with the others.

Siegfried gave a heavy sigh, not entirely certain that they would face even more unpredictable obstacles before their journey was through. "That is the plan."

---

Their sleep was restless. Although they camped a good distance away from the tower and its molten surroundings, the smell of ash and sulfur spread for miles around. They were awoken prematurely by the sound of footsteps - thousands of footsteps, some caused by hooves. An army approached, and the identity of this army was no mystery.

Seeing Siegfried's camp from afar, Hilde directed her army to his position. Siegfried and the others emerged from their camp to greet the princess.

She dismounted her steed and walked up to Siegfried while keeping her eyes focused on the tower in the distance as though it were not merely an imposing structure, but an imminent threat. "What is that?" She asked Siegfried bluntly, without facing him.

"Do you know the legend of the Hero King, Algol?" Siegfried asked.

Hilde turned to face him. "What? No." She seemed more irritable than before. The presence, or rather the existence of something that defied all logic and reasoning had clearly unsettled her.

"He was...a human god," Siegfried began with slight exaggeration in the interest of brevity. "Centuries ago, he mastered Soul Edge, and he forged Soul Calibur. He was sealed away, but now he has returned. This was brought about by the clashing of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. We awoke him during our previous encounter with Nightmare, in a land far away from here. Apparently, once Algol awoke, there was nothing we could have done to stop his return. When we confronted Nightmare, he chose to hasten Algol's arrival."

"You still have Soul Calibur," Hilde observed. "You still LIVE! How do you stand before me now, if Nightmare is truly the demon you described?"

"Nightmare showed no interest in taking our lives, or corrupting and absorbing Soul Calibur," Siegfried replied, hardly believing his own words. "He was more interested in reviving and confronting Algol. He holds a grudge against the Hero King for taming him centuries ago. He is the only host to ever resist the control of Soul Edge, and so Nightmare is determined to destroy him or make him a new host."

"...I feel as though I have no place here," Hilde said. "Your world is one of legendary swords, god-men, and the supernatural. My world has never been touched by such things, except on the night of the Evil Seed." Hilde saw Siegfried cringe. She did not mean to dredge up any foul memories, but a part of her felt satisfied knowing that Siegfried felt guilt for his crime - for bringing about the Evil Seed and breaking her father's mind. However, even now, Hilde did not truly know whether or not Siegfried could be blamed for the consequences of simply grabbing a sword's hilt. "I question whether my army belongs here."

"It most certainly does not," Siegfried stated firmly. "Your men stand no chance against Nightmare or Algol. An army serves no purpose under these circumstances. The best course of action for you to take is to return to your homeland."

Hilde appeared offended, as though Siegfried had tried to put her back into her "place" - but she knew that Siegfried was only concerned with her safety and the safety of her men.

"...I cannot stand idly in homeland when the monster who shattered my father's mind is still loose," Hilde said firmly. Siegfried winced visibly. "My soldiers belong with their families, but I belong here. I cannot return to my father before punishing the one who ruined him."

"Punishing?" Siegfried asked.

"Yes," Hilde said with narrowed eyes. "The monster who caused the Evil Seed will pay. I don't care if you say he is a demon; I will accompany you, and even if you cannot scratch him, I will still try my hand at him. If I perish at his claws, then that is my fate."

"Hilde...?" Siegfried asked uncertainly. "What are you saying?"

"Do not wrongfully attribute the crime of the Evil Seed to anyone else but Soul Edge," Hilde said with a knowing glint in her eyes. "That is the true name of the monster I seek revenge against."

Siegfried was taken aback. He was the catalyst for the Evil Seed; he was the one who gripped the hilt of Soul Edge. How could Hilde, who had lost her father due to Siegfried's actions, believe that Siegfried should not be held responsible? It was a relief, but for some reason, it only caused Siegfried's burden of shame to become heavier than before.

"The last redhead who joined us on a quest for revenge died," Ivy muttered under her breath. "I wonder how this one will fair."

"So, you intend to accompany us?" Siegfried asked.

"It is that, or I trail behind you, out of your sight," Hilde said with honesty and a smile. "Which do you prefer?"

Siegfried closed his eyes, and fought back a smirk. "Well, if there is no use stopping you, we may as well welcome you. But what of your army?"

"As I said, my men belong with their families. I have dragged them too far from home for my personal vendetta. Nightmare and Soul Edge threaten my country as much as they threaten the rest of the world, but if my eyes do not deceive me, we are facing a force that is capable of devastating an entire landscape and all who stand upon it. If you claim that we have a better chance at fighting Nightmare as a small, tight group, then I will trust you. Give me several minutes to issue orders to my generals; then, I will join you."

"Eight for eight," Ivy muttered. "Is it too much to ask for a male warrior to join us?"

Siegfried and the others broke their camp while Hilde ordered her army to retreat to Wolfkrone. Hilde returned to them with several steeds, supplies, and beasts of burden that would allow them to make the trip to Algol's tower faster.

The other women were skeptical of Hilde's necessity and her fighting ability, but none of them would reject someone who offered them assistance, even Ivy. They had depleted their last remaining provisions that morning, so the lavish rations of the Wolfkrone army were a welcome addition to their supplies.

Hilde earned the respect of the other women by showing more courtesy than the average noble, and by asking the others about their combat skills instead of making small talk during the ride to Algol's tower. "As interested as I am in learning more about you, we should not bother to share our life stories until after we have secured our lives," she said.

The trip to Algol's tower was surreal; the green plains that they rode upon gradually turned brown as they strode upon dead grass, and then black, the color of hardened lava. Tira recalled the time she found herself in the interior of a volcano during their visit to Japan; the landscape before her now was no different, a sprawling expanse of black rock. Sharp, curved, jagged stones extruded from the surface, giving the appearance of the claws or fangs of some gargantuan beast. Red-and-yellow cracks ran along the ground, eventually widening and opening into lakes of lava - enormous bodies of red molten rock.

As Siegfried and the others rode further into the hellish landscape, it became very difficult to navigate. The heat was unbearable, the air was thick with horrid vapors, and the hazardous landscape made it nearly impossible for their steeds to step forward without injury. The further they went, the less ground there was to tread on; the space around them was now occupied by more lava than stone.

"Is it even possible to reach the tower?" Ivy grumbled. "At this rate, there will be too much magma to proceed!"

"Let's just get as close as we can," Siegfried said. "After coming this far, we will find a way. We must."

The five of them pressed onward, drawing closer to Algol's tower, but the ground before them became ever narrower. Several times, they were forced to turn around and choose a different path, for the one they took led only to a cliff overlooking a boiling, steaming sea of red and yellow.

Eventually, they drew close enough to the tower to observe the entrance - two doors of titanic size. However, the tower sat upon an island of black rock, separated from the rest of the world by a moat of lava. They were as close as they could physically be to the entrance, yet it was beyond their reach.

"Dammit!" Ivy cursed. "Where is that moor when you actually need him? ZASALAMEL!" She shouted to the sky, "COME TO OUR AID! He demonstrated a capability for transporting multiple people over long distances. If only we could summon him and his floating bubble for just one minute!"

Siegfried dismounted his steed and began to pace back and forth across the black cliff that overlooked the tower's entrance, racking his mind for a solution.

"Ninja!" Ivy addressed Taki. "Don't you have the ability to teleport? Can't you just warp us across?"

"It's not that simple," Taki said. "What you perceive as teleportation is actually the act of concealing myself behind smoke and then moving quickly elsewhere. A simple smoke bomb can't move us across - "

"Never mind then," Ivy snapped brusquely. "Any suggestions? Anything at all?"

Siegfried grasped the hilt of Soul Calibur and drew it from its makeshift sheath on his back. He held the blade in front of himself, admiring the 'craftsmanship' as he tried to think of a solution...

_Guidance_, he thought to himself, _We require guidance_...

_**Aim the blade, Siegfried.**_

Siegfried nearly jumped. He whipped his head left and right, looking for the source of the voice. The others stared at him as though he were a madman.

"Did one of you say that?" He asked.

"Say what?" Taki inquired.

"So none of you heard it, either?"

"Heard what?" Tira chirped.

Siegfried stared blankly into the air in front of him for several moments before he realized what had happened.

"The blade," Siegfried whispered. "It has a soul. It spoke to us in the Lost Cathedral. It has not spoken since, but..."

Siegfried raised the sword in front of him once more. "Soul Calibur!" He declared. "We require your guidance! How will we gain entrance to our enemy's stronghold?"

_**Aim the blade, Siegfried.**_

"Aim it?" Siegfried echoed. "But where?"

_**I will forge your path.**_

Siegfried was confused, but he had faith in the power of the sword. He faced the entrance of Algol's tower, planted both feet firmly, and then gripped the hilt of Soul Calibur tightly with both hands and pointed it at the doors of the tower.

Wind began to blow around them - cool wind. Each one of them felt a sudden chill, the first sensation they'd felt other than burning heat since entering this place. Mist appeared in the air before them, and the ground at their feet became white.

"Impossible," Hilde gasped. "What manner of sorcery..."

The mist thickened, and snowflakes appeared in the air around them. For all of the fire and brimstone that surrounded them, they felt as though winter had arrived. Frost developed on their armor, especially on that of Siegfried; Soul Calibur itself was developing a layer of ice around it, doubtlessly the source of this phenomenon.

The sword began to vibrate, and the cool winter breeze around them became turbulent. Icicles formed at the ground before Siegfried, and then abruptly grew outward, expanding and elongating in a straight line towards Algol's tower. A bridge of ice was forming in front of them, jagged at first and then smooth and flat as glass. White mist and snowflakes danced around the bridge, which showed no sign whatsoever of being affected by the landscape that surrounded it.

The others were dumbfounded and awestruck, even after all they had witnessed before this point. "...Hurry!" Siegfried said, snapping himself and the others out of their funk. "We must not cause Soul Calibur to waste its energy. We must cross the bridge!"

Siegfried tentatively took a nervous step outward onto the bridge, but it showed no sign of crumbling or melting any time soon. He took a few more steps, now standing directly above the boiling lava below. He boldly began to run across the bridge, thankfully keeping his footing and not slipping or sliding. The others followed him, just as nervous and scared, but without any alternative. Hilde was the only one to falter, pausing at the foot of the bridge, knowing that it was a threshold she would not be able to return from. However, seeing the others bolt bravely in front of her, she became determined not to back down, and followed quickly after them.

The five warriors charged across the bridge, cooled and even chilled by Soul Calibur's magical properties. They all hated the heat that they had been forced to endure up until this point, but this cold was so severe that it was almost as bad. Even under their weight and heavy-armored footsteps, the bridge held firmly, and they crossed the supernatural structure without incident. Once all of them had planted their feet upon the black island that Algol's tower rested upon, they turned to observe the state of the bridge that they had just crossed.

Immediately, the bridge began to melt. It appeared slick and wet, then started to shrink at an incredible pace. Chunks of the bridge fell apart and dropped down into the lava below as it lost stability and collapsed, almost instantly becoming a waterfall. In mere seconds, the bridge they had crossed a moment ago was now a memory, with no trace of evidence to suggest that it had once existed.

Witnessing their escape route collapse invoked a feeling of finality among them - there was now no turning back, no possible way to return to the world. They obviously had come this far for the sole purpose of entering Algol's tower, but now that they had absolutely no choice but to do so, it felt less voluntary. With no choice, they turned their gaze to the two giant doors that composed the entrance to the tower, and then approached.

The two doors were extremely heavy, and it required the strength of all five warriors to push one open. Through the doors, they witnessed a giant circular chamber, almost like a ballroom in appearance. The architecture was ancient, yet sophisticated and elegant. It was Victorian and gothic, yet also prehistoric. The majority of the room appeared to be carved from brown stone.

In the very center of the room, there was a mass of crystalline shards - as sharp and jagged as the claw-like formations outside of the tower, but crammed together into one spiky mass. The texture and appearance of the shards was identical to Soul Calibur's crystalline makeup.

"Is this where Soul Calibur was forged?" Ivy asked. "Are those purified shards of Soul Edge?"

"No, there are too many," Siegfried said. Indeed, the formation of crystals was enormous, far larger than both of the Soul blades combined. "This is residue from something that occurred here in Algol's time. A scar left behind by the use of Soul Calibur for a magnificent purpose."

"Can we use this residue?" Taki wondered aloud. "Can Soul Calibur absorb it?"

Siegfried approached the mass of giant crystals, and tapped Soul Calibur against it. Neither reacted to the other. "Whatever it is, it is dead. Waste. Nothing that can be of use to us."

"So - do we start climbing now?" Tira asked.

Hilde looked around. There was a staircase nearby, running along a curved wall and ascending to the next floor. "This tower climbs above the clouds," she said. "How long should it take to climb?"

"Days," Ivy said. "I'm thankful that you brought supplies." She froze, and then slowly turned around. "Someone DID remember to grab the supplies before running across the bridge, right?"

They looked frantically among themselves, searching one another to see if anyone had the foresight to carry their supplies across the ice bridge. All eyes landed on Tira, her slender and lithe form offset by two large bags being carried under each arm.

"I didn't have much time to think, but just seemed practical to take these with me," she said. The others breathed a collected sigh of relief.

"Then, we climb," Siegfried said with a gesture toward the stairs. "And, yes, we may be climbing for...quite some time."

"Maybe Nightmare or Algol has defeated the other by now," Taki suggested. "In this case, they will likely come down to meet us before we ever reach the top."

"Then, does that mean we should have just waited for them?" Ivy asked. "What is the point of traveling here and climbing the tower if the victor will leave the tower of his own accord?"

"We don't know what is going to happen, and inaction is always the most risky decision," Siegfried said. "No one can say what has happened between Nightmare and Algol, but it has been a day since we last saw Nightmare. One of the two is probably dead by now, and if he has not descended from the tower by now, he remains at the top."

"But why?" Hilde asked.

"That's what we're going to find out," Siegfried said as he placed a boot upon the first stair of Algol's tower and began climbing.

---

There was that same, familiar, nostalgic feeling of finality. It was the second time within a span of 24 hours that they were convinced the end was imminent, and it was around the fifth time they had felt this way since their journey began. And yet, none of them felt misery. Previously, they had lamented their situation; they had despaired over the cycle that they were forced to enter eternally. To reach the cusp of victory, only to be pushed farther back than ever before. But now, there was none of the anguish and gloom that had formerly defined their adventure.

Now, there was merrymaking.

As Siegfried and the others ascended Algol's tower, they laughed. All of the positive emotions that had been repressed or disallowed during their journey came out all at once. Instead of discussing their battle plan, they told jokes. Instead of reminding one another of the lessons learned from their greatest failures, they reminded one another of their favorite moments. Instead of recalling their former comrades because they were now gone, they recalled those comrades because of all the good they had done for them. Surely, to any onlooker that had been observing Siegfried and the others from the start, they would all appear to have gone mad. However, in their minds, they had finally discovered sanity.

When they stopped climbing to rest and eat, every bite of every meal tasted better than anything they had ever eaten before. When they awoke from slumber, every breath they drew filled them with more energy and refreshment than they'd ever known. The trek through Algol's tower spanned over a week, yet each of those days felt like the best days of their lives.

Perhaps it was due to a magical property of Algol's tower, perhaps it was due to Hilde's presence, or perhaps Siegfried and his cohorts had finally realized that nothing good will result from gloom and despair. Perhaps they had become delusional as the result of oxygen deprivation due to the height of Algol's tower.

Or, perhaps, it was only after crossing the threshold into Algol's tower and committing themselves to fighting beings as powerful as gods that they finally realized that they should make the most of what remained of their lives. They had each accepted death long ago, but none of them realized their accepting death was not the same as throwing away one's life. They were prepared to sacrifice their lives for a cause far greater than themselves, but in the act of doing so, they had forgotten to use their lives for more than their mission.

A favorite addition to their supplies was alcohol - they had never brought such a luxury along with them during their journeys, considering the drink to be unnecessary. However, Hilde had included in her supplies enough alcoholic beverages to ensure that their nights were full of merriment, and sometimes philosophical rambling.

"When you think about it, we're pretty small creatures," Hilde said, as she attempted to ignite a small campfire to keep them warm over the following night.

"And who's 'we', now?" Ivy said, in her usual cynical-yet-inquisitive tone.

"You know. People. Humans. The world is colossal compared to us. Relative to the entire world, we are no larger than flecks of dust, and we might as well be omnipotent compared to ants, but that's another matter entirely. However, as small as we mere mortals are, we can do things even giant mountains cannot."

"Alright, I'll bite," Ivy said as she bit a chunk out of an apple. "What can we do that mountains can't, Hilde?"

"We can choose, and there's no punch line to that," Hilde said with a serious face. "We can always choose how we react to situations, even if we can't control those situations themselves."

"Uh huh," Ivy said dryly. "That's real impressive, princess, but I fail to see this matters in any context whatsoever."

"Everyday we face forces greater than ourselves, alchemist," Hilde said. "Everyday. Death...death is just one of those forces, but it's not the worst. There are many forces far worse than death, and some just as inescapable. But even outside of the context of the Soul blades, one day death will come knock, knock, knocking - " she pounded on the floor with her free hand for effect, " - and he will call for our lives and we'll be forced to pay up. Forced," the princess said, holding up a finger as if making some incredibly important statement.

"Forced?" Taki asked. "But you said we have a choice, and that is what separates us from everything else in the world."

"Ah, but listen," Hilde began. "Death is a situation, as well as a force. There is nothing we can do about it. When you die is out of your hands. Where you die is out of your hands. What you die of is out of your hands. The only thing you or I have any possible control over whatsoever is how we face that death. And I'll face mine the only way I possibly can: with a smile." She smiled and pointed at her face, as if showing the proper technique. "Death will stand before me and swing his scythe and it will bear down on me with all the force of the world behind it, and when that happens, there is nothing left to do but smile. Smile right at that bastard, face my fate with anticipation and then receive my reward on the other side."

Ivy clapped mockingly, faking awe and wonder. Hilde, believing the gesture to be genuine, took a bow, holding out the wood she had been igniting, causing flames to fly out around her hand.

"That's great," Tira said, "but, uh, don't you think you should be watching where you're pointing that flame?"

Sure enough, the crate holding Taki's gunpowder had caught on fire, and the entire group worked furiously to put it out - laughing the entire time.

---

It was impossible to keep track of how many days had passed since they had entered Algol's tower. They did not sleep at the same time each day, but simply slept when they felt tired. When they awoke, they had no way of knowing if they had slumbered for a portion of their day, or passed into the next day. Ten times they fell asleep as they ascended the tower, and after the tenth time they awoke, they ascended five floors before they heard the clash of steel above them.

Nightmare and Algol exuded extraordinary amounts of energy, and Siegfried and the others could feel their presence even at the bottom of the tower. The further they ascended, the greater they could sense their adversaries - however, because they did not know how much power their enemies held, they could not know how close they were to the top of the tower; until they heard their enemies' weapons clash together.

"I hear them," Taki said. "They do battle above us."

"Impossible," Ivy said. "We have been traveling for at least a week. There is no way that their duel could have lasted this long."

"Perhaps this tower distorts time," Hilde suggested. "Perhaps we have been able to ascend it quickly, while time moves slowly around us."

"Why are we speculating? Let's just go up there and see for ourselves!" Tira said impatiently, bouncing up and down.

"They are only a few floors above us," Siegfried said. "Prepare yourselves. This is the final battle."

With their weapons drawn, the group abandoned their supplies and quickly ascended the final floors of the tower. As they moved higher, they heard the clash of weapons grow louder, and the grunting of physical effort.

Through the next stairwell, Siegfried could see a sky of red-and-orange clouds instead of a brown stone ceiling. The sky was not aflame; the sun was setting and painted the sky as it did. Siegfried emerged from the stairwell onto the top of Algol's tower, a flat circular platform decorated on all sides by massive pillars, ornate columns, and poles adorned with waving flags. The top of the tower appeared to be a stage, a space dedicated to performance - except there were no seats from which to view the theatrics. This flat, circular space that served as the tower's roof had only one supernatural feature; the ground was covered in meaty, fleshy veins that pulsed with the pumping of blood, all leading to the center of the 'stage', where a large, flat eyeball was grafted into the tower itself.

The only other noteworthy features of this place were the two supernatural forces that now used it as the battleground for their duel. Nightmare was indeed present, clashing swords with a tall, powerfully built, imposing man who could only be none other than Algol.

His hair was snow white, but his face did not reflect how ancient he truly was. His irises were white as well, but his pupils remained, proving that he was not blind. A crescent-shaped scar ran across the left half of his face from his hairline to his lip, crossing over his left eye, mirroring Siegfried's own similar scar. His hair was worn wildly with several dreadlocks, giving him an unrefined, tribal appearance that did not reflect his status as a sovereign. On his shoulders he wore heavy pads of armor adorned with white feathers, and on his chest he wore a thick breastplate that appeared to be carved from the hide of some reptilian beast. His arms were large and bulky with an almost grotesque degree of musculature, and his fingernails were three times as long as a normal man's, filed down to give the appearance of lethal, razor-sharp claws. There was a tassel around his waist adorned with symbols that no one present could read, for the text was so ancient that the language had long been forgotten. His hips and his calves were both clad in thick, scaly armor that appeared to be a mix between metal and the scales of some gargantuan reptile. Most notably, he hovered several inches above the ground, levitating as a spiral of dust formed below his feet. Indeed, the man appeared to be a tribal barbarian warrior far more than any manner of monarch; the only regal aspect of the man was his long blue cape and arrogant air.

At first sight, Algol appeared to be unarmed. His right arm glowed red and his left arm shined blue, but neither held a weapon. When Nightmare lashed out at him with Soul Edge, Algol held up his left hand and a crystalline shield manifested in his grip, growing out of his flesh with no sign that Algol had exerted effort or endured pain. He used the shield to knock Nightmare's blade aside and then lashed out with a blade of his own - a fearsome red sword that grew out of his right hand within the blink of an eye, and then shrunk back into his skin as soon as his attack was finished. The weapon that grew from his left hand bore a striking resemblance to Soul Calibur, whereas the weapon that came out of his right hand was quite obviously related to Soul Edge. It appeared that this man carried the power of both weapons in his body, which he could summon at will.

Algol and Nightmare appeared to be so involved in their intense battle that neither of them seemed to notice Siegfried and the others appear upon their battleground. However, shortly after their arrival, Algol grabbed Nightmare by the neck with one hand, grabbed Soul Edge with his other hand, and spoke a single word:

"Enough."

His voice was godlike, a deep rumble that echoed several times both before and after the word had been said. Surely Algol was older than all languages in the world; surely, he was speaking one of the first languages ever, if not _the_ first language. And yet, the others understood him. Their eyes saw his lips move and their ears heard a deep, guttural sound emerge, but their minds perceived something different entirely.

Algol threw Nightmare aside, and the demon crashed into a pillar that crumbled around him, but delivered no structural damage to the tower. Nightmare clambered to his feet and charged at his adversary, but the ancient Hero King held up a single hand, and Nightmare came skidding to a halt, his hoof-like feet scraping against the tower floor, causing sparks to fly.

"You hold much power," Algol 'said' - or, rather, the others 'heard'. "But you are not a worthy adversary."

"What nonsense is this?" Nightmare demanded. "The sun has risen ten times since we began our duel, and you have not bested me yet! How dare you call me unworthy when you cannot strike me down!"

"If I had wished to kill you," Algol began with an exasperated tone, "I could have done so a hundred times over by now. I could tell that you would pose no challenge to me the moment I saw your aura. The reason I have not struck you down is because I have no use for your corpse. I desire the weapon that I once held so long ago, Soul Edge - but I sense that the blade is now a hundred times more foul and contaminated with evil than it was before. I would not dare to touch its hilt unless I had the protection of its counterpart."

"You were just biding your time?!" Nightmare demanded in a voice that grew ever more menacing. "You were using me for entertainment?! YOU WERE MERELY PLAYING WITH ME?!"

"Do not direct that rage at me," Algol said with an arrogant smirk, "But instead, aim your fury at this man." He pointed a long, sharp fingernail at Siegfried, and all eyes turned to him. "I can feel the grudge that you bear against this man, as well as the grudge that he bears against you. You have controlled one another's' fates since you first met, and it is not my place to interfere with your destinies. The two of you will duel, and the victor will face me."

"Why?!" Nightmare demanded. "Why not kill him now and take Soul Calibur for yourself? Why do you insist on this farce?"

"Should you defeat this man, you may absorb his weapon. Then, perhaps, you will be strong enough to face me," Algol said in a tone that could not have been more condescending if he had tried. "Or, should this man defeat you, then he is truly the superior one, and then I will finally face an opponent who deserves my full attention."

"YOU CONCEITED SWINE!" Nightmare bellowed as he slammed Soul Edge into the ground in frustration. "I will slay Schtauffen, become whole once more, and then I will wring every last drop of life from you! You will regret this pompous decision, you rat!"

Algol floated into a sitting position, and within the blink of an eye, an extremely ornate throne manifested itself under him. The throne floated into the air, taking Algol with it, until he settled on a high spire that allowed him to overlook the 'stage' atop his tower.

"What an eccentric man," Ivy said. "This is the Hero King? He fights Nightmare for ten days straight because he needs a way to pass the time until Siegfried gets here, then he makes the two of them fight because he wants the winner to be strong enough to give him a challenge?"

Algol laughed hoarsely, a sound that was as loud as it was disturbing. "I am unlike the rest of you. I resent no one and no thing. I have all the patience in the world, and I do not need to hurry and seize the blades quickly; I will take them both in time. Right now, I desire nothing more than to see which sword has grown stronger during my slumber, and the outcome of this great grudge that I sense between you."

Algol clapped his hands above his head once. "Holders of the Soul blades - DO BATTLE!"

Siegfried and Nightmare turned to face one another. This confrontation was forced, and Algol's unusual behavior had unnerved them both. However, the glib Hero King was right about one thing - they both carried a deep desire to slay the other. The stage had been set for their final confrontation - there was nowhere to run to, no escape. This duel would be there last, and so they would forget about Algol's selfish desires and everything else but one another.

"I cannot lose," Siegfried whispered to himself. "I cannot allow myself to lose. This is what I have been journeying for..." He raised Soul Calibur and adopted an aggressive fighting stance.

"I will kill you and inherit the power of Soul Calibur," Nightmare said bluntly, "I will kill the Hero King and absorb his soul. Then I will have the strength of a god, and I will scorch the world with my supreme power!" He took his own fighting stance, one that mirrored Siegfried's, a style born from using Siegfried's body for three years. "My destiny arrives!"

"You have no other destiny than to perish by my hand!" Siegfried shouted, and with a mighty war cry, he charged headfirst at Nightmare.

As soon as Siegfried was within range of attack, Nightmare spun around in a circle, swinging Soul Edge as he did. Siegfried reflexively raised Soul Calibur and parried the blow. Soul Calibur's magical properties caused it to weigh no more than a feather, and allowed Siegfried to match the speed of a being so much more powerful than he. After Soul Calibur struck Soul Edge, the two swords bounced away from one another, and Nightmare used the momentum to spin around in the opposite direction, and turn this movement into an attack. This move caught Siegfried off guard, but he was able to evade the blow by shuffling backwards.

Nightmare quickly approached Siegfried while spinning Soul Edge vertically, moving it back and forth between the right and left sides of his body. Siegfried had seen this technique used many times before, often by Ivy, and knew that this form of attack was difficult to parry. He realized that if he continued to walk backwards to avoid Nightmare's approach, then he would fall off of the tower. Although it was risky, his only choice was an aggressive attack.

In an attempt to stop the movement of Soul Edge, Siegfried swung Soul Calibur diagonally and forced Soul Edge downward so that the tip pierced the ground and became pinned down. However, in the same movement, Soul Calibur also pierced the ground - but, having anticipated this, Siegfried used it as leverage to swing his body over Nightmare, and landed a kick on Nightmare's helm as he vaulted over the demon.

Once he had righted himself, Nightmare started using a different technique - stabbing Soul Edge forward rapidly as though he was fencing. He may have been emulating Raphael in an attempt to defeat Siegfried using the same technique that had defeated him once before - however, a weapon as broad as Soul Edge was inefficient for fencing, and Siegfried defeated the attack by using Soul Calibur like a shield, charging straight at Nightmare, and tackling him.

Nightmare flew backwards but rose to his feet with a single swift movement. He then began to twirl Soul Edge around his body. He tucked his limbs inward and then lashed them out, and began to glow with a black hue. Soul Edge suddenly began to burn with fire, although Nightmare did not show any pain from gripping a flaming weapon. Both Soul Edge and his own arms then began to spark with lightning.

Siegfried realized that Nightmare was going to fight at his full capacity, and moved to the center of the platform to best be able to evade the ensuing attacks. Nightmare's following attacks were lightning fast, and he struck with force he did not have before. Siegfried could not catch most of his attacks, and was stuck - although not fatally - by several blows, and beaten back several feet. He looked for a hole in his opponent's defense, but Nightmare left no openings and switched attack methods too quickly for Siegfried to formulate a plan. The best he could do was continue to block and evade Nightmare's blows, but even then, his armor was already cracking due to the many blows he was sustained.

Siegfried began to question whether he would be capable of defeating this demon - even with the extra strength and speed that Soul Calibur had imbued him with, Nightmare moved so fast that he was a blur. He was a monster, and his weapon was a part of him; Siegfried was a mere mortal, and Soul Calibur was but a blade.

He contemplated calling to his companions for help, but he did not even have time to draw the breath to call their names - and besides this, Algol might not allow it.

_I am outmatched_, Siegfried thought to himself between blows. _I cannot defeat him as I am now. I require more. More power, more strength, more energy!_

Nightmare was no longer using Soul Edge as though it were a blade; he used the weapon as a club, and bludgeoned Siegfried with it from all sides. He slammed the weapon hard into Siegfried's side, and he went tumbling away, rolling across the ground, but keeping a firm grip on Soul Calibur's hilt throughout it all. He looked up to see Nightmare charging at him, bearing down on him, raising Soul Edge for the killing blow. With one hand on Soul Calibur's hilt and one at the end of the blade, Siegfried raised the weapon to defend himself, but much of his body was still defenseless. If he could not think of a solution, then his death was at hand.

And he could not think of a solution.

As the Azure Knight leapt into the air and fell toward Siegfried, the tip of Soul Edge aimed toward his unprotected abdomen to pierce it and land a killing blow, the demon suddenly stopped and froze in place.

_**Heed my words, Schauffen.**_

The voice was soft, comforting, and maternal.

_**Your soul is mature. You are able to control the full extent of my power. But currently you do not use it.**_

A mature soul - this was not what Siegfried possessed when he first grasped Soul Edge. It was his immature soul that could not handle the power of the blade, and released what he could not control, spreading Soul Edge's evil influence across the globe - the Evil Seed. But now...now, this voice claimed - his soul had finally reached maturity?

_**You wield me as an ordinary blade. You must call upon my power.**_

Power - the power of Soul Calibur. That is what Siegfried was lacking. That was the gap between him and Nightmare - Nightmare was calling upon the full extent of Soul Edge's capabilities to strike so hard and so fast. Siegfried would be required to do the same!

Siegfried did not know how to invoke the power of Soul Calibur. It had only been in his possession for a short time, and he had never performed magic or witchcraft in his life. In frustration, he shut his eyes and silently screamed at the sword.

_Give me your power, Soul Calibur!_ Siegfried commanded. _Protect me! Strengthen me!_

A bright, blinding aura of white engulfed Siegfried. When Nightmare struck his foe's defenseless abdomen, he heard not the rending of flesh, but the sound of cracking glass. His momentum counted for nothing, and he was now completely still. For a brief moment, he was able to observe his opponent - the same face, the same hair, the same stoic, determined, fearless expression - but now, there was a layer of sharp, glittering, translucent material covering every inch of his foe's body below the neck. It was not glass, nor was it ice; it was the same crystalline material that composed Soul Calibur.

From his position lying flat on the ground, Siegfried leapt to his feet and slashed at Nightmare in one movement that was as acrobatic as it was swift and unexpected. He dashed toward his adversary, slashing rapidly in all directions, shoving Nightmare's body backwards with each attack and carving a red line into his body with each swing. Nightmare recovered from the shock of his opponent's surge of energy and then began to defend against his blows, but each time he raised Soul Edge, it was turned aside and then he was attacked before he could raise it again.

Nightmare growled and roared, and a black sphere of energy expanded outward from his center. Siegfried held the holy blade up as a shield, waited out the burst of dark energy, and then continued his assault. Nightmare returned fire, slashing at Siegfried just as vigorously, paying no attention to defense or evasion; the two of them were now berserkers, attacking wildly, almost mindlessly.

The two carried out a nonstop assault, ignoring the cuts and cracks that were appearing in their respective armor. To Nightmare, whose vessel was a suit of armor, each cut Siegfried carved into him was a direct blow to his being. To Siegfried, now covered in a thick layer of holy crystal, Nightmare's attacks were nearly insignificant; scars and cracks were appearing in the transparent material that covered his body, but he was dealing Nightmare damage faster and to a greater degree.

The azure abomination had fought for ten days straight without a sign of weariness, but the more Siegfried chipped away at his body, the less strength he showed. Chunks of him were falling off, from his dark blue armor to the molten rock he had for skin. The white-and-purple orb at his center glowed dimmer, and the wisps of black-and-purple energy that billowed out around him were fading. His movements became sluggish, and slowly, he took more blows than he was returning.

Nightmare knew that he was losing. He knew that it was still possible for him to win if he devoted all of his strength to a single attack - but that if his attack should miss, his defeat would be at hand. With no other alternative and faced with his own death, Nightmare made his choice.

Nightmare aimed for Soul Calibur and struck it hard, causing the two swords to bounce apart from each other after the strike. Then, he charged at Siegfried, spinning Soul Edge and twirling it from one side of his body to the other, creating a vortex that moved from side to side. Siegfried, undaunted, charged at Nightmare and did the same - he spun Soul Calibur in the same manner that Nightmare was doing, and both of them struck each other's blades, and continued spinning the blades from side to side, meeting each attack with one that was symmetrical to it.

Finally, Siegfried broke the endless pattern by sidestepping and swinging Soul Calibur horizontally at Nightmare. He heard the sound of his blade entering flesh, and he knew that he had struck his foe. However, when he turned to look, he saw that Nightmare had caught the blow with his claw, and now held Soul Calibur within his grasp. Nightmare appeared to be just as puzzled as Siegfried at this surprise event, and the two of them stared at his claw before they simultaneously looked up at once another. Nightmare heaved Soul Calibur with a harsh swing, and Siegfried went spinning through the air before landing on the ground, kneeling. Now that his opponent was at a distance, Nightmare gathered energy for his risky final strike. He arched his back and spread out his limbs, and sparks of electricity danced across his body as his power grew. He charged toward Siegfried, his entire body lit up with fire and sparks. The enormous aura that surrounded him revealed that he was putting all of his energy into one attack, and Siegfried knew that this was his opportunity to land the blow that would end the battle. Still kneeling, he held Soul Calibur out in front of him, and then attacked Nightmare.

From his kneeling position, Siegfried performed an underhand swing, slicing upwards with the blade, ending his attack in a standing position. Nightmare, contrastingly, charged at Siegfried, spun his body once to gain momentum, and then slashed downward at Siegfried, arriving at a kneeling position once the attack had concluded. To an observer standing perpendicular to the two of them, it was not immediately clear whose attack had connected. The two of them remained still, heaving from the exertion, but showing no sign of injury. Each seconds that passed by was so tense it felt like an eon, but at last, the victor was clear; Nightmare faltered, shuddered, and then collapsed.

"With this, it ends," Siegfried whispered to himself.

Nightmare's aura began to fade. His energy signature dimmed until there was no sign of life in the twisted, grotesque body he had adopted. What parts of him that could have been considered flesh dissolved soundlessly into smoke; slowly, gradually, all organic parts of him disappeared, leaving only the hollow metallic shells of his armor. Once again, just as he had been at Ostrheinsburg Cathedral, he was an empty suit of armor.

And yet, Siegfried could still sense him. He was not truly defeated, but merely returned to his sword. Now merely a will shackled to a sword, an intelligent force that lacked the power of locomotion.

The eye at the core of Soul Edge darted nervously about. Soul Edge - Nightmare - Inferno - all the same being - desperately yearned to know what its ultimate fate would be.

"With Soul Calibur in my hand, and imbued with this kind of power, I can destroy it once and for all," Siegfried muttered to himself. He raised Soul Calibur, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the quivering eye of Soul Edge. He was going to stab that eye and end this once and for -

"Siegfried, wait!" Taki cried.

Siegfried hesitated. Should he let anything come between him and the destruction of the blade, or should he simply strike? What possible reason could Taki have to interrupt him?

"You don't know what will happen," Taki said. "You could create another Soul Embrace."

Siegfried's arms went limp. Soul Calibur struck the ground beside him with a weak clang, and he slumped forward in dejection.

She was right. He should not strike the sword. The entire tragedy might repeat itself.

What, then, was he to do?

When Sophitia struck Soul Edge with her blade, the sword shattered and became a hundred fragments. When Xianghua struck Soul Edge with Soul Calibur, the holy blade was stuck within the evil blade until Raphael freed it. When Siegfried struck Soul Edge with Soul Calibur, it created the Soul Embrace.

Who was to say what would happen if he plunged one blade into the other now? Perhaps the only answer was purification, but Talim was the only one who could have possibly purified evil of this magnitude, and now she was gone. There was no known method for purifying something of Soul Edge's power. What were they to do?

The sound of slow clapping was heard.

Siegfried turned around and saw Algol come floating down to the ground, still sitting in his throne. He wore an expression that appeared to be satisfaction mixed with condescension.

"That was quite entertaining," Algol said. "You have done well."

"Hero King," Siegfried said. "I have no interest in fighting you. I am here for one reason only - to destroy this weapon."

"The impudence of young people does not change in any age," Algol said gloomily. "You may not destroy what does not belong to you."

"Belong?" Siegfried echoed. "What are you saying?"

"I am the only one to ever tame that blade," Algol said. "With it, I forged the greatest empire of my time. That blade is rightfully mine. Not only this; with my own two hands, I forged that sword you hold. I sacrificed my soul to ensure that the blade would remain pure over the many centuries it has existed."

The Hero King rose from his throne to stand upon the top of his tower, but then quickly his feet left the ground as he invoked his ability to levitate.

"Both blades belong to me, and only me," Algol stated bluntly. "The same is true of all lands on this continent, from the east coast to the west coast! I will have it all!"

"Your time is up!" Tira said defiantly. "You ruled your era, but new people rule the land and new people have earned the swords!"

"The many nations of the world will not simply hand sovereignty over to you," Ivy said. "You face an uphill battle."

"Yes," Algol said with a grin. "And that is why I will enjoy myself. If it was too easy, I would get bored!"

"World domination? I'd say he sounds evil," Ivy said.

"Even if he intends to rule benevolently, I will not allow him to conquer my lands," Hilde said. "I must pay respect to a monarch renowned as a Hero King, but I will not give up my country!"

"I crave a single thing; Power. It is all that I desire," Algol said. "Sovereignty, dominion, leadership, control of all things; these are the fruit borne from power. It is all I have ever wished for, and all that I will ever strive for. I have done it once before, and I will do it again; I will not rest until the world is mine."

"Can a person really be this single-minded?" Ivy inquired. "He must be the shallowest person I have ever encountered. No wonder Soul Edge could not control his mind; he has no mind to begin with!"

Algol's head whipped toward Ivy, and his wild white hair and white dreadlocks flared out with the movement. He aimed his right arm at her, and his skin began to shift in shape. From the forearm down, his arm took the shape of a black tube; it was like a canon. Algol recoiled as an orb of energy came blasting out of the tube, and flew straight at Ivy. Thrown completely off-guard, she was unable to dodge the attack and was knocked to the ground, dangerously close to the edge of the tower.

"Those who do not respect my power will learn to do so," Algol said grimly.

"Do you truly only desire one thing?" Taki asked. "Is supreme power the only thing that matters to you?"

Algol was silent. Listlessly, almost despondently, he slowly turned his gaze to the center of the tower, where the flat-shaped eyeball rested. For some reason, the mass of crystals at the base of the tower came to Siegfried's mind.

"...I would have traded my kingdom to have just one thing, but there is no way to bring back the dead..." Algol said solemnly. Then, his expression became stoic. "No. I must not look back. A true sovereign does not have that...luxury."

"...Who did you lose?" Tira asked curiously.

Algol growled. "As I have said - I will not look back!"

He shot high up into the air, and looked down upon Siegfried from above.

"You defeated the spirit of the evil sword!" He announced. "You...are a worthy opponent. Strong one..." Algol raised his arms, crossing them so that they covered his face. "...You shall be the sacrifice..." his arms glowed red and blue, and he lashed them away from his face, manifesting weapons in each hand as he did. "...For my resurrection!"

---

A black cloak obscured her body, and a black hood covered her head and cast a shadow over her face. She knew that this ensemble was so cliché as to be conspicuous, but she could think of no other way to disguise herself.

She had been following them, cleverly staying out of their sight. Having traveled with them for almost a year, she knew how they detected pursuers, and so she kept herself undetected using all her knowledge.

There was no way she could have departed them and left them to their business; not when their business would result in the deaths of her children. She had decided that she could not accept them as a casualty of the quest to destroy Soul Edge; if losing her children was the price she was forced to pay, then she refused to pay the price. She would rather live in a world with Soul Edge than live in a world without her children, and if she had to sabotage her own companions to secure a future for her children, then she would do so. Nothing would hurt her more than losing them, not when she had worked so hard to raise them, teach them, and protect them. Not only were they her greatest investment of time and energy, but they were also her only source of joy and the loves of her life. She would never sacrifice her children, not even to save the world. She would be the keeper and protector of Soul Edge, to prevent her children from dying along with the sword.

Sophitia stood at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the entrance to Algol's tower. It was impossibly tall, reaching above the clouds, and also impossible to reach, surrounded by a moat of lava. She had walked in a circle around the entire structure, and could not devise a single method of entering the behemoth tower.

In anger, she cast her black cloak into the lava, and fell to her knees. Somewhere in that tower, Siegfried and the others were destroying Soul Edge, and killing her children in the process...and there was nothing she could do about it.

As she wept and sobbed for the fate of her children, a man with dark skin and white clothing flew over her head so silently that she never knew he had been there.

---

Algol's power was immeasurable. With a single strike, he could knock Siegfried from one side of the tower to the other. With every blow, Algol cracked the holy armor that Soul Calibur had given Siegfried. The sword itself was ineffective against the Hero King; for all its power, it may as well have been a feather for all the damage it dealt to him. Although Siegfried had been granted superhuman speed and strength, he was incapable of reaching Algol when he flew through the air and launched magical projectiles from his arm-canons. Despite his status as a "Hero" and his history of peaceful reign, he was a far more fearsome adversary than any other Siegfried had faced.

After no more than a minute of combat, Siegfried was already too weary to block and evade the Hero King's attacks even longer. His fighting style incorporated teleportation and flight, making it impossible to fight him without the same skills. Siegfried was outmatched, and not even the full power of Soul Calibur could aid him now.

Siegfried abandoned the fight. His objective had never involved the Hero King; he was here to destroy Soul Edge, and nothing else. Imbued with so much holy energy, and wielding a holy weapon, he knew that by landing a single purifying blow on Soul Edge, surely the weapon would be converted to holy energy. He ignored Algol, paying no attention to him except to evade his attacks, and made his way toward Soul Edge, still lying where Nightmare had fallen atop the tower.

"Running away? Giving up already?" Algol demanded with arrogant laughter. "You were not a worthy opponent after all! The warriors of this age are weak and slow."

Siegfried reached Soul Edge. He raised Soul Calibur, and swung the sword down with all of his force. He felt the weapon stop - but not because it had struck the other weapon. Instead, it had been caught.

"I told you," Algol began, "that is my property. You may not destroy it. It is my right to wield these two blades, and now, you will give them to me."

"That is wrong," came an unfamiliar voice that had not been heard for quite some time.

Algol whipped his head to the side. He had not sensed the man's aura until now - why? He had masked it. Masked his aura! What kind of witchcraft...

A black-and-purple explosion went off in Algol's face. He roared and grabbed his head, stumbling away. Before Siegfried knew what was going on, he felt a hard tug on Soul Calibur.

"Give it to me," Zasalamel instructed. "You will not be able to defeat him, not even with this."

"You!" Siegfried exclaimed. "Get your hands off of this blade! It has chosen me, and - "

"Do you really think you are a match for Algol?" Zasalamel demanded. "His power is yours tenfold. Only I might stand a chance against him. But to do that, I will need the power of both swords."

"Both?!" Siegfried gasped.

"WHO?" Algol screamed, clawing at his face, which was covered in a black-and-purple cloud of magic. "WHO HAS DONE THIS TO ME?!"

"Give me Soul Calibur," Zasalamel commanded. "Only with its holy protection might I wield Soul Edge. With both weapons, I would be on even ground with him."

"Are you mad?! You want to wield Soul Edge?! And do you really expect me to give you Soul Calibur after all you've - "

"You have no choice!" Zasalamel snapped, the first sign of emotion and genuine anger Siegfried had ever seen him show. "There is no alternative! Give this to me before I chop off your hands!"

Siegfried held on to the hilt of Soul Calibur for several short moments before letting go. Zasalamel pushed him away, toward the top of the stairwell where the others were watching from, and then Zasalamel knelt down and picked up Soul Edge with his free hand.

Zasalamel rose from his kneeling position, holding Soul Calibur in one hand and Soul Edge in the other. The two weapons shape-shifted in his grip, transforming from broad, two-handed Zweihänders into two scythes, one demonic and one angelic in design. He turned to face the Hero King, who was still struggling with the attack that Zasalamel had used on him. Algol pressed his hands to his face, with his hands glowing red and blue, he banished the adhesive dark magic that Zasalamel had placed on his head. With his white eyes filled with rage, he faced Zasalamel, needing no words but only the expression on his face to tell the moor that he planned to kill him. Zasalamel waited patiently, holding Soul Calibur forward as though it were a shield, while keeping Soul Edge back to use for assault.

"Fool," Algol began, "You will regret drawing my ire."

Algol flew into the air and fired two orbs of energy down at Zasalamel, but the moor shot straight up to avoid him and then dashed forward through the air at Algol. He swung Soul Edge, which Algol blocked using a magically manifested shield of crystal, and then Zasalamel lashed out to strike with Soul Edge, which was turned aside with a quick thrust from a sharp, red sword that Algol summoned from his other hand. The two continued to trade blows, each one continuously parrying and countering one another's attacks, carrying out two separate battles, one on each hand, while moving throughout the air, sometimes moving away then dashing back toward one another, never moving in predictable patterns.

As proven by his ability to keep up with Algol, clearly Zasalamel was best suited to fight him, if only for his ability to teleport and fly. When Algol disappeared and manifested elsewhere, Zasalamel immediately knew where he was and assaulted that location with ranged magic attacks without missing a beat. He was a superhuman filled with centuries of knowledge and sorcery; he was on a plane of existence above the others, and as much as they hated him and despised him for his trickery and interference with their quest, they conceded that he was, in fact, far more qualified than them to fight the Hero King.

When Algol fought Nightmare for ten days straight atop his tower, he was fighting at far below full capacity, simply sparring with the Azure Night to kill time. It was exercise to help him wake up from his long slumber - but now, he was through with practice. Algol was now fighting at full capacity, using advanced techniques that the others would never have been prepared for. He darted through the air, teleported to and fro, and fired orbs of energy more than he actual conducted traditional sword-fighting - which, when invoked, was at ten times the pace that a normal mortal could keep up with.

The exchange of blows continued for several minutes, never once becoming any less of an outstanding spectacle than it was when it began. Zasalamel, wielding both Soul blades, was a match for Algol - however, he was not more than a match. Algol showed no signs of tiring, regenerated his flesh when wounded, and fought in an increasingly creative manner. Zasalamel, while still fighting far beyond the capability of anyone else present, was showing signs of fatigue and could not regenerate his injuries as quickly as his adversary. Without experience at dual-wielding his weapon of choice, he was also at a tactical disadvantage.

Eventually, Algol began to beat him back. The Hero King took advantage of every opening, struck at every weak spot, and fought according to his enemy's shortcomings. After a few minutes to feel out his opponent, he had mastered the art of fighting Zasalamel and was now clearly winning the fight. He took the battle out of the air and back to the ground, and struck Zasalamel repeatedly. The moor spent more time stumbling backwards in pain than parrying and evading, and soon he was nothing more than a punching bag for his opponent. Not even Zasalamel, the strongest among them, wielding both of the Soul weapons at once, could stop the Hero King.

Suddenly, Algol stopped attacking. This was because Zasalamel had reached the edge of the tower, and was in danger of falling - were he to tumble off the side of the structure, he and the two blades would plummet into the lava below - and although Algol cared not for the fate of the moor, he refused to lose the blades.

In an act that was almost blindingly simple, Algol stepped forward, and took a firm grip on Zasalamel's scythes. "These weapons..." He mused. "With these weapons, I will become whole again."

In a voice so quiet that only Zasalamel could hear it, Algol continued, "...and yet...I shall never be whole."

Algol then kicked the moor squarely in the chest. Zasalamel lost his grip on the two weapons, and then fell off of the tower, disappearing beneath the clouds.

"Who was he?" Algol demanded, without turning to face the others.

"He was a member of the ancient tribe that was tasked with the protection of Soul Calibur," Siegfried explained.

"What?" Algol demanded, whirling around. "Impossible! That was thousands of years ago. How could that be?"

Siegfried stared nervously at the two blades that Algol held in each hand. They changed shape, becoming a something he'd never seen before - a weapon lost to time, an ancient tool of death that defied categorization. It was a long mass of blades and spikes that could be used for slashes or outright bashing, an inhumane and barbaric weapon.

"He pursued ancient and forbidden knowledge that granted him the art of reincarnation," Siegfried said, "or so he claimed."

"How intriguing," Algol mused. "Have you known a warrior stronger than he?"

"No," Siegfried admitted with obvious displeasure, "He was the most powerful warrior we have ever confronted."

"What a shame," Algol said. "Then there are no others who could even pose a challenge to me. I have reached my apex! The zenith of my life has passed me. Woe, woe..."

"What is it with people like him and Olcadan?" Tira grumbled. "So concerned about fighting and power."

"This isn't the time to bring that up," Siegfried said nervously. "He has the two Soul blades. There is nothing we can do!"

The others racked the minds for a solution, but none would come to them. Algol admired the two weapons in his hands. Then, they began to glow with a yellow light as Algol began to absorb them into his body.

"Whole again!" Algol said. "My power returns to me - yes! I will be whole once more!"

"I thought," came a familiar voice, "you said you would never be whole."

"...YOU!" Algol roared, before whirling around and pointing Soul Edge at his adversary. And yet, the tip of his weapon did not find the throat of a dark-skinned man, but instead the slender neck of a blonde Greek woman.

Zasalamel was as bloodied and beaten as he was when he had been kicked from the tower, yet it appeared he still had enough strength to give someone at the bottom a ride to the top. The Greek woman in his arms broke free, and charged at Soul Edge. She grabbed the sword, even as its sharp blades pricked at her hands. She got the best grip she could on it, and then began pulling.

"Give it to me!" Sophitia cried. "Give me Soul Edge!"

Algol stared down at the woman with disinterest and apathy in his eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked curtly.

"I am saving my children!" Sophitia cried. "I'm not letting any of you kill them!"

Algol's white eyes widened with interest. "Hm? What did you say?"

"My children's lives are tied to Soul Edge!" Sophitia cried out between sobs as she continued to tug futilely at Algol's mass of red blades. "They will die if Soul Edge is destroyed! I'm taking it from you! Give me Soul Edge!"

Sophitia took out her sword and attempted to stab Algol in the abdomen. Her sword bounced harmlessly off of his thick armor, and she tried several times to stab him, but failed each time. Weeping, she tried again to grab and steal Soul Edge from Algol, but the weapon was a mass of blades that cut her hands wherever she placed them. She fell to the ground at Algol's feet, and began punching his thighs with her bloodied hands. "Give me Soul Edge!" She sobbed. "Give me that evil thing now!"

Algol stared down at Sophitia with a look on his face that was neither sympathy nor apathy. His emotions were not apparent; his expression was unreadable. As Sophitia wept at his feet, she suddenly heard two heavy impacts on either side of her. She looked down to see Soul Calibur and Soul Edge beside her. Eagerly, she lunged for Soul Edge and grasped it. The weapon shifted its shape instantly, becoming a Greek short-sword in her hands. She raised the weapon above her head and aimed it down at Soul Calibur, still just a mass of crystals.

"Sophitia, no!" Siegfried cried.

"Do you want to doom us all?!" Ivy spat. "Soul Calibur is our only hope!"

"Don't be selfish, think of the suffering that the rest of the world will go through if you annihilate the only resistance against Soul Edge!"

Sophitia hesitated once she heard the voices of her comrades, and wavered as she held Soul Edge above her head, ready to strike Soul Calibur to pieces...and yet...and yet...

"_**Why do you hesitate?**_" Hissed a voice that came from the evil blade as it glowed with an evil red shine. Sophitia looked up in shock at the weapon that she held. It forced itself closer to her, the eyeball at the center staring into her soul. "_**If you do not have the resolve to destroy the blade, I will take control of you and do it myself!**_"

"No!" Sophitia cried. She felt the influence of the evil sword creeping into her, staring at her hands, forcing the sword closer to her. She pushed it away, trying to hold the sword away from herself, but she was losing more and more of her upper body to the sword.

Just when it seemed that the blade was about to engulf her in its influence, she felt the blade pulled away from her, and its influence shrink rapidly. She opened her eyes and saw Algol with one hand on Soul Edge to pull it away from her, and the other hand gripping Soul Calibur to nullify the effects of Soul Edge.

"All through the ages, a parent's love for their child surpasses any other power," Algol said. The smug tone that had characterized him was gone now, replaced by a tone of sadness and regret. "But, remember, if you are misguided in your beliefs, you will only bring harm to those you wish to protect."

Sophitia read into Algol's words. "...You...have a child, as well?" She asked between sobs.

"...Time...is cruel." Algol said, and for a moment, he looked nothing like the most powerful man on earth, and instead appeared to be the weariest. "Even with all this power...I cannot undo the past."

Algol gripped Soul Edge tightly, and pulled it away from Sophitia. With both blades in his hands, he crossed his arms, and began to glow.

"I would not wish my pain upon anyone," said Algol sadly. "I have found a cause worthy of my commitment. To protect your children and their descendants, I would return to my slumber."

Algol began to glow bright yellow. The Soul blades glowed along with him, sinking into his skin and becoming a part of him. He crossed his arms, brought his legs together, tucked his body forward slightly, and floated into the air. Once levitating, he began to fade away.

"He's escaping!" Ivy hissed. "We must stop him!"

"No," Siegfried said, holding out his hand. "I think it's something different."

Algol continued to fade away until he was completely translucent. The glow around his body faded as well, and soon, he was completely gone.

A voice that was not a voice echoed in Sophitia's mind:

_Now, brave mother, return to your children..._

"Where is he?" Tira asked.

"He is nowhere," Zasalamel said in his typical cryptic fashion. "He has sealed himself away."

"Sealed himself?" Taki asked. "How do you know?"

"I do not sense his aura anywhere in the world," Zasalamel said, and the others were forced to take his word that he could detect someone from here to the other side of the globe. "He is no longer in this world; he is in the void between dimensions. He will never return."

"Just like that, he's gone forever?" Hilde asked.

"He was forced to slay his son with his own hands," Zasalamel explained. "This left a lasting mental scar that never healed. He could not undo the sins of the past, but he could not bear to see such a tragedy repeat itself; to see a parent give up the life of their own child."

"Is that why you brought me here?" Sophitia asked, wiping away her tears. "Because you couldn't stop him any other way?"

"Do not resent me for using you," Zasalamel said unemotionally. "Your children will live, and the threat of the Soul blades is gone now."

"The threat is gone," Siegfried echoed in a whisper. It had all happened so differently than he imagined that the magnitude of this event had not hit him yet. He looked down at his body and saw that he no longer wore crystal armor, but his shattered, cracked metal suit. "Soul Edge is gone. The blades are gone forever!" He cried. "We did it! We finally did it! Nightmare, Soul Edge, Algol, they're all gone forever!"

Even though they'd all been there to witness it, the news did not hit them until this very moment. A wave of euphoria washed over them, and they cried out with joy, leaping up and down and thrusting their fists at the sky victoriously. They danced and shouted and hugged one another, even those among them who were usually stoic and unflappable. Only Zasalamel remained unemotional.

"Done," Siegfried sighed with exasperation, "It is finally done..." He looked out over the field of clouds beneath them, and thought back on the past year of adventures. So much pain and sorrow, but in the end, they had completed their journey and with few deaths...

...and yet, there were still many who were dead. The hundreds, no, thousands who had perished during the Evil Seed and Siegfried's reign as the Azure Knight. He rose one hand to his face at the memory of all he had put to death. Even a moment as joyous as this was to be soured by his sins...

Hilde walked away from the others, approaching the lamenting man. "Siegfried," she began. Siegfried turned to face her. Her expression was serious.

"Do you, Siegfried Schauffen, claim responsibility for the calamities that have plagued us for the past eight years?" She inquired.

Siegfried lowered his head solemnly. "Yes. As I told you, it was my own delusion and selfishness that created the Evil Seed and the creation of the Azure Knight."

Hilde raised her short sword, leveling it at Siegfried. "You certainly acknowledge your guilt without hesitation."

Siegfried bowed his head. "You have suffered from the evil that was born from me. For that, I offer you my deepest apologies, but I know that there is nothing I can do for you."

"Siegfried, do you intend to live the rest of your life suffering from the guilt and shame you bear because of your sins?" Hilde asked in a cold voice.

The others noticed that two of them were not partaking in celebration.

"Yes," Siegfried replied. "I do not deserve a happy life. Perhaps I do not deserve life at all."

"I can give you an escape from your guilt," Hilde said, raising her sword.

"Hilde?" Ivy asked. "What are you saying?"

Siegfried gazed into Hilde's eyes for several tense moments. Then, he kneeled, and lowered his head.

"I have never faced trial for my sins," Siegfried stated. "No judge has delivered a verdict to me. I have never received a sentence for my crimes. None of this is truly over - not for me - until justice is served at last."

Hilde walked toward Siegfried, her sword held straight out toward him.

"Are you going to execute him?!" Tira cried. "Stop! Don't - "

"Tira!" Siegfried snapped, causing the young woman to freeze. "If I must be punished for what I have done, then so be it. I cannot live the rest of my life bearing this burden. Whatever Hilde determines, I will accept."

"But Master," Tira cried, "I don't want to lose you now, right after - "

"Tira!" Siegfried said even more brusquely. "Whatever Hilde determines...I will accept."

"M-Master..." Tears began to form in Tira's eyes.

Hilde stood before Siegfried as he kneeled with his head down. She held her sword out above him.

"...The greatest virtue," Hilde began, "Is to think of others before oneself. You have scarified everything to atone for your sins, and in doing so, you have demonstrated true valor. Now that everything has come to an end, I, Hildegard von Krone, declare that you, Siegfried Schtauffen, are forgiven for your sins."

Siegfried's head whipped up. "F-Forgiven?!" He echoed. "No. That is not possible. I could never redeem myself!"

"Ah!" Hilde said, raising her blade. "You said you would accept whatever I determine, did you not? I have determined that you, like so many others, fell under the evil spell of that cursed sword. You were seduced by a power none could resist, save for a single man who lived long ago. The blame is not yours, but instead belongs to Soul Edge. For vanquishing Nightmare and bringing the threat of the two swords to an end, you possess the highest level of virtue. Rise, Siegfried Schauffen, and live the rest of your life without guilt, shame, or regret, for there is no reason for you to bear any."

Siegfried was without words. In a single instant, all of the weight that he had been carrying for the past eight years was lifted and cast away forever. His burden was gone; his crimes were annulled. Forgiven - forgiven for his sins? Truly? The sovereign of a kingdom - who had suffered personally because of his actions - pronounced that he was forgiven?

"...Th-thank you, Princess von Krone," Siegfried said while choking back tears.

"Didn't I tell you that I would 'grant you what you desire the most'?" The princess asked with a wink. "And, as I said, call me Hilde."

The joyous moment was interrupted by a deep rumbling. The ground at their feet - the top of Algol's tower, and the rest of it as well, was shaking.

"This tower can no longer sustain its existence," Zasalamel said. "It is a memory from the past, given physical form due to Algol's magic. Now that Algol is no more, this tower cannot remain."

"What's going to happen?!" Tira demanded.

"The tower will crumble," Zasalamel said flatly.

"What are we going to do?!" Sophitia gasped.

"Hey. Zasalamel," Ivy said curtly. The dark-skinned man turned to look at her. "You know, you've given us a lot of trouble. The very least you could do for us - "

"It wouldn't kill you to be polite for once," Taki said.

"If you require passage to the ground..." Zasalamel began.

"Please," Siegfried said quickly. "We implore you."

"Very well," Zasalamel said. "I concede that I owe you at least this much. Come closer."

The six of them scrambled toward Zasalamel, and as the stone tower crackled and fell apart at their feet, they felt a magical force surround them as Zasalamel summoned his translucent floating sphere.

Zasalamel moved the sphere away from the tower, carrying everyone with him. They watched the tower fall from their hovering vantage point, and Zasalamel began floating them all down to the ground below. Their descent mirrored the fall of the tower, which fell into the hellish landscape it had been born from. However, that very landscape was shrinking - the giant cracks in the Earth's crust were sealing up, and the ground was returning to normal. Grass sprouted up instantaneously, and the blackened, scorched field of lava was becoming a green plain within moments. As the tower fell, it did not leave rubble, but simply disintegrated. By the time Zasalamel's bubble reached the ground, the tower and the landscape around it were both no more; there was no longer any sign that it had ever existed, and the land around it was returned to normal.

Zasalamel dissolved the bubble, and the others stepped free. They marveled at the spot where Algol's tower had stood; it was hard to believe that, moments ago, they had been standing above the clouds. In fact, all of the events of that day were difficult to believe; at one point, they were moments away from death and nearly the Soul blades to an insane megalomaniac - and then, almost too quickly to know what was happening, all of their worries disappeared into, as Zasalamel put it, "the void between dimensions."

"Zasalamel," Siegfried began, "You have my gratitude for..." As Siegfried turned his head from side to side, he slowly realized that the moor was nowhere to be found. "Did he leave already?"

"I'm sure he has very pressing business to attend to, such as speaking in vague riddles and being mysterious," Ivy said with a roll of her eyes.

"Ivy - he saved us by bringing Sophitia to the top of the tower." Siegfried chastised.

"Um - " Sophitia began. "I'm...I'm sorry for betraying you all and seeking to safe Soul Edge. I...I...I just..."

"...We understand," Siegfried said when he saw tears forming in Sophitia's eyes. The others nodded, and Sophitia stopped speaking.

"If the threat of Soul Edge is finally gone - then is this where we part ways?" Taki asked.

"I wish to return home to my mother," Siegfried said. "I vowed not to return to her until my sins were absolved, and now, eight years later, I finally have that luxury."

"I'm going where Master's going," Tira said in her perky, bubbly voice while bobbing up and down.

"I intend to live out the rest of my days in solitude," Ivy said. "I've had enough adventures for several lifetimes."

"You know where I want to be," Sophitia said with a smile.

All eyes went to Taki. She seemed confused, as though she didn't understand why she was expected to speak, even though she was the one who posed the question. "...My clan is dead and I have assisted in sealing away the greatest evil in the world. I have no home and no mission. I do not know where I will go. I believe I will return to my homeland. There, I will...find something. What I will find, I do not know. But I will search until I find it."

"I don't understand any of you," Hilde said. "I think you've been living like this for far too long!"

"What do you mean?" Siegfried asked.

"When most people achieve something important, they don't think about what's next - first, they rejoice!" Hilde said cheerfully. "Before you go your separate ways, I propose a celebration in my castle. I would happily accommodate all of you!"

Siegfried and the others exchanged glances, looking at each other with increasingly bigger smiles on their faces.

"Hilde," Siegfried began, "We would be delighted."

* * *

**I AM YOUR SLAVE**

**END**

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**Author's Note:** And that's the end. I hope that you enjoyed I Am Your Slave! When an author takes more than 4 months to update his story, a lot of people stop checking for updates. I really hope that more than a handful of people stuck around for the conclusion, since I tried my best to make it good!

My favorite author, a man I idolized for his writing talent, never finished his magnum opus/swan-song/achievement-of-his-life fanfic, and left it one chapter away from completion. Over the years, I began to lose enthusiasm for IAYS, but I didn't want it to end up like the other story that died one chapter away from completion. So, I sunk into my author's chair for one last chapter. I hope you liked the ending, but if not, I hope it's better than no ending at all.

I toyed with several different endings, such as an ending where Siegfried dies, an ending where Tira dies, and an ending where EVERYONE dies, but in the end I decided to just novelize my favorite SC4 endings. I was a little bit hesitant to begin including SC4 elements into an SC3 fanfic, but in the end I think it worked out okay. If Algol's appearance doesn't fit in for everything else, blame Namco for giving SC4 such a terrible story mode. It was nothing compared to SC3! It took me 58 chapters to cover SC3, but only 2 chapters to cover SC4. Why did SC4's story mode have to be so short?!

I could have made it longer if I had chosen to include Darth Vader, Yoda, the Apprentice, and the Guest characters, but...they would have been really out of place. Except for Shura. I love Shura.

I was planning to include Amy in the ending. There was supposed to be a bit where Amy is still alive inside of Soul Calibur, and they could "revive" her by taking her consciousness out of Soul Calibur and placing it into someone's body, so that they walk around with Amy's soul in their body, able to hear Amy's thoughts and stuff. But then I decided it was too much trouble to go through and might have been a little bit silly.

If you want to know what happens to the characters after the ending, here it is: Siegfried returns home to Germany and his mother, who recognizes him immediately despite his scar, longer hair, and increased musculature. Siegfried and Tira, after all they've been through, don't know what gods to believe in, so they don't get married, but do become _de facto_ life partners. Ivy, just like in her SC2 ending, lives out the rest of her life in her mansion in solitude. She doesn't seek a mate or have offspring because she doesn't want to spread the Soul Edge bloodline. Sophitia and her family live happily ever after. Setsuka leaves to find her birthplace and discovers a twin sister in Britain, proving that it is the place of her birth. Taki wanders Japan, meets Shura, and the two of them have lesbian sex. Sorry, I'm just kidding. Or am I? Speaking of "just kidding", Xianghua marries Kilik and Maxi becomes the greatest pirate ever known. Hilde continues to be the ruler of Wolfkrone. Zasalamel continues to reincarnate himself and watch over humanity, becoming mankind's guardian, protecting the Earth from any and all threats far into the future. Algol remains sealed away forever. Who else was there? Oh, yeah.

After murdering Talim, Yun-Seong goes insane and psychologically convinces himself that he didn't kill the girl, and that he must seek Soul Edge to kill the person who killed Talim. Seong Mi-na, after discovering that Yun-Seong has gone insane, has no choice but to kill him to prevent him from becoming another Azure Knight. She somberly returns home where she continues to resist sex discrimination.

I also like to imagine that, throughout the entire adventure, Yoshimitsu was following Tira, attempting to get revenge on her, but his hair-brained schemes always fail in a comical way due to a simple oversight. For example, when Tira was kidnapping Sophitia's children, Yoshi was barely visible in the background, getting ready to shoot Tira with a canon, only for the canon to backfire and blast him away...that sort of thing.

I had plans to continue IAYS even after the story ended by updating this fic with an "Omake Theater" - deleted scenes, comical interviews with the characters, "the making of" documentary clips as though IAYS were a movie, outtakes, amusing bloopers, and that sort of thing. You know when Algol kicked Zasalamel in the chest, knocking him off of the tower? Well, he would be screaming "THIS! IS! SPARTA!" in the Deleted Scenes section. But, when I think about it, I think my magnum opus is complete as it is, and doesn't need any more chapters.

In conclusion, I want to say thanks to all of my readers, especially the fans have been checking for updates since the very beginning! I am so sorry for all of the half-year-long hiatuses, and I hope that the ending is good enough! A very special thanks goes to my "Vizier" Henry, who wrote the "Ficlet" side-story trilogy and gave me a lot of helpful advice throughout the production of IAYS. If it were not for his enthusiasm and assistance, I would have stopped posting IAYS chapters around number 20.

If you want to know what I'm up to these days, check my profile!

Thanks for reading!


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